Not on my Watch
by CF Vici
Summary: SeaQuest survived the alien invasion, but there's still work to be done to save the future. Sequel to Hard Time. AU *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

_**Well, folks, I'm back. It's been a month and I simply cannot wait to share more with you. For those of you who wanted me to take a longer break, sorry, I just can't seem to help myself.**_

_**This is the sequel to **_**Hard Time**_**. **_

_**You really NEED to read **_**Hard Time**_** to understand what's going on. **__**You will probably be lost if you don't. **_

_**This thread is going to be more of an episodic, continuing serial rather than a traditional story, at least for a while. I am going to be covering the major background arcs: getting characters I want in place and showing how things are different in 2022-23 because seaQuest did NOT get hijacked by aliens. **_

_**Noyce has come out of retirement and is back as an admiral. Some other regular characters are going to change a little (get promotions, change bridge positions, etc). Henderson will not make lieutenant in my AU. Maybe NCO, if I can ever find her anything to do that will earn some attention. She and Jonathan are not going to get together. I never quite bought that relationship in the canon. In my little AU, she'll have a casual, on/off relationship with Miguel, but nothing too serious.**_

_**They fudged Lucas's age on TV, with no time passing between S1 and S2 even though they had to build a whole new seaQuest. They changed the dates from 2018 (beginning of S1) to 2021 (beginning of S2), but they still treated Lucas like a minor (and of course, Jonathan Brandis didn't age two years over one summer either), so I am going to modify Lucas's birthdate to make him now 17. He will turn 18 on 23 December 2022. Yes, I know that puts him at 13/14 for season 1, which is ridiculous. But then, so were some of the canon plotlines. Just close your eyes and pretend S1 was in 2021 instead of 2018. Or just ignore the dates. We don't need no stinkin' dates, do we?**_

_**There isn't going to be a single conflict for a while. At some point (when I have the "players" ready) I probably will present a threat / major conflict and do a more traditional story, which I may do in a separate thread, depending on how germane it is to what else I have going on here. I plan to change the "description" every time I post an update, so if you subscribe to the "story alert" you will get a short synopsis of that particular chapter when you get the alert email. **_

_**Standard Disclaimer:**_

**The following is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created by Rockne S. O'Bannon for the 1990s television series,**_** seaQuest DSV. **_**The**_** seaQuest **_**name and concept are registered trademarks of Amblin Entertainment and Universal Television. I claim no rights to their intellectual or commercial property. This work is offered for entertainment only and in sincere tribute to their much-beloved creation.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 1**

_**12 September 2022**_

Once they'd paid their respects and thanked the captain and crew of the _Ronald Reagan, _Captain Nathan Bridger offered Admiral William Noyce the best guest quarters on _seaQuest_ with a tone of insistence that even Bill couldn't mistake. Sure, he'd get home faster if he took a jet copter, but Nathan needed to discuss in depth what he'd learned in the future and besides, he owed Captain Stafford a favor and taking Noyce off his hands was the least he could do. Bill accepted, so they sent a shuttle for him and then _seaQuest_ parted ways with the aircraft carrier. Nathan returned to Galapagos Colony, where they'd left their science staff and where Darwin was loitering about because he didn't want to be trapped indefinitely while they hid in a deep trench.

While docked with the colony, the captain extended an invitation to Governor Sanchez for dinner aboard _seaQuest_ as a token of appreciation for being so hospitable in the middle of the crisis. The governor accepted and enjoyed the V.I.P. tour as well as some fine cuisine. Nathan asked Miguel to accompany them because, frankly, Tim needed a break. He'd taken the Hyberion language burden so seriously and mentally frazzled himself trying to do the impossible. The governor tried to speak English as much as possible anyway, with the sensor chief only helping him over a few rough spots. Sanchez invited the crew to come visit the colony, but Nathan felt they'd already been too much of a burden. He accepted solely on behalf of Dr. Smith, but assured the governor he'd bring _seaQuest _back another time.

Wendy needed a good long vacation, and he'd promised her she would get it at the first opportunity. Finally, she had her chance. He didn't pry into her plans, but because _seaQuest_'s tour was over, she didn't need to be back for several months. Nathan really hoped she could disappear for a good long while.

Everyone who'd been on If came to the Launch Bay to see her off. Nathan saw her slipping cards to people as she kissed cheeks and accepted hugs. When he got his farewell hug, she gave him a card, too, and whispered, "Just in case you need to talk to someone." It was a business card for a psychologist, presumably a friend of hers. While Nathan didn't think he would avail himself of another psychologist who didn't know what they'd been through, he was very glad that Wendy had found a substitute so that no one would have any reason to disturb her leave. Talking to Noyce about her position for the next tour was one of the first things on his agenda.

Quite a few of the scientists he'd sent to Galapagos had made other arrangements and were already gone. Those that did come back aboard either had more equipment they needed to unload or they simply wanted to stick it out and be with _seaQuest_ when she made her triumphant return to home port. Being the UEO's flagship, _seaQuest_ usually enjoyed pretty decent send-offs and returns, but after disappearing for a week and having everyone think she'd sunk only to suddenly reappear just in time to battle an alien mothership (an impressive spectacle beheld by at least half of the planet in under 24 hours, thanks to Lucas's viral distribution campaign) Nathan had a feeling her homecoming was going to be one spectacular show this time around.

He usually wasn't very big on parades and limelight, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to capitalize on the publicity while he had it. Funding for another _seaQuest_-class submarine wasn't going to be easy to come by, but if he started pushing for it now, while he was the whole world's media darling, he might have chance. Noyce was another part of his scheme. People hadn't forgotten that he'd been the Interim Secretary General of the UEO. He wasn't in office long enough to commit any grievous errors, so he was well-loved. Popular wisdom had it that if he had run against McGath, he probably would have won. Of course, Bill knew his main appeal was simply that he'd stopped Andrea Dre from forming a dictatorship. Beyond the fact he wasn't a politician, nor did he want the job to begin with, Bill was smart enough to quit while he was ahead. And Nathan was smart enough to use his popularity and have former-Secretary Noyce standing with him when he drove _seaQuest_ into port.

They left Galapagos with Darwin back aboard, but Dr. Smith and about half of the regular science crew gone. While it wasn't as eerie as when the entire civilian complement had been evacuated, _seaQuest_ still felt a little empty. Barring any complications, they were going to take a leisurely trip back home at about three-quarters speed.

"Why don't you just take the Panama Canal, Nathan?" Bill griped when they were alone in the captain's quarters.

"Are you in a hurry? Janet's probably glad to have you out of the house. We'll be back in Florida in a week, even going around South America."

Bill poked him in the chest with his index finger. "_You_ just don't want the tour to end."

It was true he didn't look forward to the dry dock time when he'd be stuck doing paperwork and counting the days until he could get back out, but he had a lot of wooing and lobbying to do this time. He'd be lucky if he found a weekend to go back to his island and fish. "No, I just hate paying the Panamanians a month's operating costs just to save a few days."

"Oh, come on. You're heroes. The UEO can afford it. This is going to be the homecoming of the decade."

"If the UEO is feeling generous, then they can put it towards a new submarine."

"Look, _I_ support you building a whole fleet, but they're not exactly cheap, you know. And now you're going to have to compete with the space program even worse than before. People are going to want _military_ spacecraft, not just exploration probes."

_Damn._ He hadn't thought of that when he told Lucas to spread the video. Of course people would be afraid. He couldn't blame them. He wasn't altogether comfortable with the reality of aliens who could swoop in and grab any poor Earthling who wasn't armed with nuclear missiles. He was really hoping he could sell the idea that the clueless Hyberions just accepted they were in the wrong and put _seaQuest_ back to promote good will and galactic harmony. But Bill was probably right. The space lobbyists would use this against him.

"Bill, the threat to the UEO isn't from space, not for at least twenty years, maybe longer. We've got much bigger problems right here and right now. The UEO needs to have another _seaQuest_-class submarine, maybe two or three. We could lose _seaQuest_ in plenty of other ways. It wasn't that long ago that I had to destroy the last one to prevent an ecological disaster. Who's to say that can't happen again?"

"How do you know there's no threat from space?"

"I've been to the future, remember? I know."

"And who's going to believe that after what they just saw? Besides, in _that_ future you visited, _seaQuest_ was stolen in secret and no one knew about the aliens. That means you've changed history. You don't know what's going to happen now any more than anyone else."

"I know people like Deon and Bourne are planning to weaken the UEO and use land-melting weapons to change the face of the globe."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Land-melting weapons? Come on, Nathan. Deon is a playboy and Bourne's barely a blip on Wall Street's radar."

"They didn't build their empires overnight. What we do _now_ matters."

"We can't lock someone up when he hasn't done anything yet."

"I don't want to lock anyone up! Even if we eliminated both of them, someone else would step in to take their place. The point is, we can't just sit around and hope that greedy, power-hungry people and confederations are going to accept peaceful democratic rule. We don't have any _colonies_ in space that need protecting, but we_ do_ have colonies all over the oceans. _SeaQuest_ simply cannot cover the entire planet at once, not to mention how much trouble we'd be in if anything happened to her."

"If you've had a change of heart about the military, I can get you command of one of the _Navis_ subs—state-of-the-art stealth and weapons, no science or research."

_Yeah, those silly manta ray wannabes were __**so**__ useful when Mariah used one to destroy three of our oxygen regenerators._ The captain refrained from voicing that thought and shook his finger at the admiral. "Oh no you don't! I _**want**_ _seaQuest_. Where would you ever get the idea that I'm against science? Maybe we should wonder why these very advanced aliens, who didn't give one flip about our research capabilities, went after _seaQuest_ and not a _Navis_."

"Maybe LeConte and Keller didn't know about the _Navis_-class."

"Maybe. But I'm not talking about loading up the oceans with a bunch of weapons. If we had more subs like _seaQuest_, they could be doing research, but also keeping an eye out for trouble and be able to step in if the situation warranted it. We act as a deterrent presence."

"Cops on the beat, eh? Look, I'm on your side, but I'm also telling you the reality. I'll support your campaign, but don't be surprised when no one listens to us old sea dogs."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "What is the point of throwing a big harbor parade and calling us heroes if we're so irrelevant?"

Bill shrugged. "Everybody loves a party."

Now he knew why he got a headache every time he talked to Bill. No one else could be so agreeable about disagreeing with him. He decided to change the subject and he didn't bother easing into it. "I want Kristin Westphalen back."

"I thought you liked Smith?"

"She's stepping down from CMO to pursue psychology and parapsychology full time. Getting Westphalen back was _her_ idea."

"Smith is leaving us?" Noyce looked alarmed.

_Good. That means he recognizes her talents._ "Actually, she's staying. We need a Chief Psychologist and I couldn't pass up her terms."

The admiral shook his head. "It'll never fly. If you try to claim anyone is a basket case, they'll relieve them of duty."

"Did I say 'basket case'? Did you even _hear_ me when we first got here? We were _tortured_, Bill. My entire bridge crew, including Lucas. And we were forced to watch each other's tortures. We _need_ counseling and we _want _Wendy because she was there. No one else is going to understand what we went through."

Bill flashed one of his patented smirks. "Lots of psychologists are trained in PTSD. Torture isn't anything new, unfortunately."

"Oh, really?" Nathan was already standing and he wasn't in uniform. On a whim, he whirled around and lifted the back of his shirt to expose his scars. He looked over his shoulder to talk. "And how many of those 'trained psychologists' can say they held their patient's hands _during_ something like this?"

Bill gasped. "My God, Nathan. All of you were beaten like that?"

"All the men, yes." He lowered his shirt and turned around to face his old friend. "The women were threatened with rape if they didn't conceive a child with one of us, so our captor would have another generation to torture. Wendy had her feet beaten 60 strokes with a stick and a leather strap because she refused to cooperate. Do you have any psychologists on that list of yours who can say the same?"

"Okay, you need Dr. Smith," the admiral conceded. "But why can't she stay on as CMO? A full-time psychologist is not in the budget."

"She has a private grant, Bill. The UEO won't have to pay her."

The admiral grinned. "Well, that's different. What's the problem then?"

"Her replacement. I want Westphalen."

"That's up to Westphalen, isn't it?"

"Are you telling me that her funding got cut purely out of coincidence? No one leaned on her donors because of that torpedo incident at Monito Island?"

Bill flinched. "You know we can't have civilians launching weapons."

"It was the right thing to do and you know it. Besides, she didn't actually launch them herself. A very competent weapons specialist did."

"On her order."

"She's a civilian. She can't give orders outside of Medbay. It was a _recommendation_ from the head of the science department. It was brilliant reasoning that saved lives _and_ a priceless treasure. If she hadn't thought of it and convinced Phillips to do it, the whole incident would have been a public relations nightmare. She saved our butts. But _someone_ made sure _she_ paid for it."

"It wasn't me, but I'll look into it." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure this isn't personal?"

Bill had seen him sitting alone with her over a candlelit dinner on the eve of her departure. He'd intended to tell her how he felt at that dinner, but he was interrupted twice and then completely thwarted when he had to save the world. There had never been another chance after that. He'd kept in touch with Kristin, but without hope of seeing each other, he hadn't spoken the three words he wanted to. And he was sick of hiding. "I'm not going to deny I have feelings for Kristin. You show me where the regulations state I can't have a personal life and_ I_'ll resign."

"Like hell you will. If I can't retire, then you can't either."

"Deal."

"Did you just agree with me?" The look on his old friend's face was somewhere between shock and bewilderment.

Nathan grinned. "I always agree with you when you're right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Petty Officer Tony Piccolo picked at his pancakes. There was nothing wrong with them. In fact, his breakfast was pretty darned good even by navy standards, because they'd resupplied at Galapagos. Everything was fresh and everyone aboard was still talking about the events of the last few days. And why wouldn't they? It was historic and stupendous and downright awesome. They had _seaQuest_ back and Captain Bridger had told those thieving aliens to stay the hell away from Earth. Everyone was happy.

Admiral Noyce was aboard, but only to hitch a ride back home, not for inspections or anything that would give the crew headaches. He spent most of his time chewing the fat with the captain. The tour was over and they were headed home to Fort Gore. Everyone would be getting a nice long leave. For the thousandth time, Tony tried to convince himself that he could just put off dealing with his problem, enjoy his leave time with his aunt, nieces, and nephews, brag to them about his promotion, and bask in their pride. But he couldn't do it. He'd told Eddie it was better to just take responsibility for mistakes. Now he had to put his money where his mouth was.

He glanced at his watch. He wasn't due for bridge duty for another six hours, but he didn't want to call Commander Ford too early. There was no reason to make the commander any madder than necessary by disturbing his sleep. He'd thought about bypassing Ford and going straight to the captain. After all, the captain had personally promoted him, but he knew that would be a cowardly move, not to mention a breach of protocol. He had to face the strict military man he reported to and not the more fatherly captain.

Tony sighed, pushed away his still-full breakfast tray and pulled out his PAL. "Piccolo to Ford." _Please don't be asleep._

"Ford here. What is it, Piccolo?"

He couldn't have been asleep to answer that fast and that coherently. Tony tried to decide whether he was any more annoyed than usual, but it was difficult to read him in person and nearly impossible on a PAL. "Commander, I need to talk to you."

"You _are _talking to me."

"I mean in person, sir. Like… privately?"

"Can it wait until I'm on duty?"

Tony wracked his brains trying to figure out what to say. It _was_ a Navy matter. He'd thought he was being courteous to deal with it on his off-time, but he hadn't thought about Ford not wanting to waste any of _his _free time. "It can wait if you want it to, sir."

"Does this have anything to do with the honey and feathers I saw all over the enlisted mens' showers?"

Tony sighed. He hadn't complained about all the pranks and hazing he'd been enduring. Not once. He'd been a really good sport. And even though he'd been the one who ended up _wearing_ the honey and feathers and running down the corridors looking like Big Bird, he'd cleaned it up when he came back to the showers and discovered that the perpetrators left a mess. "No, sir. It's more important than that, but we can do it when it's convenient for you. Sorry to have disturbed you, sir." _Great. Six more hours with knots in my stomach_.

There was a short pause. "Can you meet me in the Ward Room in half an hour?"

He breathed a small sigh of relief. One way or another, it would be over soon. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He stood, replaced his PAL on his belt, grabbed his tray and took it to Dagwood, who was seated on the other side of the mess. "You want any of this, buddy? I'm not hungry."

Dagwood's face twisted up in confusion. "You're not hungry, Tony?" He looked down at the food suspiciously.

"Yeah, I don't blame ya for thinking that. If you don't want it, just chuck it, okay?" He clapped the big guy on the back.

Tony went back to his quarters. Lucas was playing an Internex game with some dude he called "Wolfman". At least Tony thought it was a dude. Wolfman could be a dame for all he knew. It had been literally months since Lucas played any kind of computer game and he looked like a starving bum at a Thanksgiving feast with his eyes glued to the screen and a big grin on his face.

"Don't worry, I'm not stayin'," he assured his roomie, hands raised in surrender. Not that the kid even noticed he'd entered. Tony hurried to his locker. "You may even be rid of me permanently after this," he muttered under his breath. He knew Lucas was way too engrossed in his game to have heard it. He pulled out his brand new uniforms: navy blue coveralls with his name and new rank embroidered on the front. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He added his personal favorite to the top of the pile: the one Commander Ford had given him when they were trapped in the future. One of the pants legs had been cut off and re-sewn by hand and a piece of fabric with his name in permanent marker was sewn over the original owner's nameplate. He didn't have to remove it to know it had been Ford's own uniform. He would never have worn it on duty ever again, but he would have loved to have kept it. Truth was, he didn't want to part with any of them. Every last one of them was clean, pressed, and meticulously folded to regulation. Tony wore jeans and a t-shirt. _All_ his uniforms were in that pile.

He jerked his eyes away from staring at them. This was no time to get all sentimental about attire. Standard prison-issue clothes were the least of his problems. Sure, he wasn't looking forward to more time in the brig or the inevitable court martial, but the worst was going to be seeing Commander Ford's disappointment in him when he confessed. Man, he would do _anything_ to weaken that blow. Well, anything but continue to lie.

Lucas didn't look up from his computer screen as Tony headed to the hatch. He wondered if the kid would come see him in the brig. He glanced at the aquatube and wondered if he'd ever see Darwin again. The dolphin had access to almost all of the boat, but there were no aquatubes near the brig. Probably just as well. Tony didn't need temptation to try a jailbreak. He was gonna take his lumps this time and finally make a clean break with the past. He probably wouldn't get back on _seaQuest_ after he'd served his time, nor would he be a petty officer, but at least he could start with a truly clean slate. Then if he made any strides forward, he could enjoy it and stop worrying about being discovered.

He closed the hatch with one hand and then used both hands to steady his stack of uniforms. He knew he was early, but he went straight to the Ward Room anyway. Maybe the commander would show up early and he could get this all over with. He set the uniforms down on the table and straightened the ones that had been rumpled slightly in transit. He had never taken better care of any kind of clothing in his life. But this was the only way he had to show that he cared about what he was giving up, that he had appreciated the promotion and the vote of confidence, that it crushed him inside to have to make this sacrifice.

Alone in the room, he paced nervously, mentally rehearsing what he had to say and hoping that he could just take it like a man and not make anything worse. No attitude, no wisecracks, and no jokes, unless they were at his own expense. Maybe, if he was lucky, the commander would let him report to the brig without being escorted by Security in handcuffs. Yeah, and maybe Admiral Noyce would come sing him a lullaby too.

The door opened and Tony whirled around, straightening as stiff and tall as he could, with his hand touching his forehead in a sharp salute.

"You're not in uniform, Tony," Ford said with a hint of a sigh. "At ease."

Tony relaxed, but only a little. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the commander. He stared straight at the wall.

Ford noticed the stack of clothes. "Something wrong with your uniforms?"

"No, sir. They're perfect. But I got no right to wear 'em. I brought 'em to turn in. They're clean and ironed and everything."

"What do you mean, you have no right? The captain promoted you himself. And I gave him a hard time because he beat me to the punch."

Egads, it was even worse than he thought. The commander had wanted him promoted too? Tony drew a deep breath and steeled himself. He wasn't going to back down now, no matter how hard it got. "I got no right to be in the Navy at all, sir. I lied to my recruiter. I came to confess so's you can start the court martial."

Ford sighed heavily and pulled out a chair. "Sit, Piccolo. Let's hear it all."

Tony finally broke his stiff stance and did as the commander asked, taking a seat opposite him at the table. Ford was dressed in grey workout sweats, but it didn't look like he'd been in the gym yet. His sweats always showed evidence whenever he worked out. Tony clasped his hands together atop the table so he wouldn't fidget. He kept his eyes glued to his hands for the most part, but looked up every once in a while.

"All right, did you verbally lie or was it on the application?"

"Both."

"So there's written evidence of this lie in your service record."

"Yes, sir."

"That's perjury. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

Tony cringed. "I'm guessing two to five years?"

Ford pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"More?" Tony sighed. "Great. Just great."

"What did you lie about?"

"They don't let you join up without a high school diploma or a G.E.D. Remember I told you I'm dyslexic? I can't read and I didn't graduate. I paid someone to take the G.E.D. test for me. I wore a fake cast to have an excuse for someone else to fill out the application."

Ford's voice took an upturn. "If you couldn't read the application, then you didn't realize you were committing perjury to sign it."

"I knew it was wrong. The recruiter read it all and answered questions and everything. I got no excuse."

"Your enlistment is almost up. You could have just taken an honorable discharge and been done with it. Why confess at all?"

"Because I wanna do somethin' right for once. I like bein' a petty officer. I like havin' you and the other officers lookin' at me like I'm not a total screw-up. The cap'n said I could go as far as I wanted if I kept up good work. I figured if I came clean and did my time, then I got a chance at really earnin' a _real_ promotion some day."

Ford reached across the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You really earned _this_ one, Tony. And maybe even another one. Brody and O'Neill reported what you did in the shuttle when it overturned. If you hadn't closed that hatch, everyone would have drowned."

"'Cept me."

Ford gave a slight nod. "All the more impressive because it wasn't self-motivated."

"Big deal. I closed a door while breathin' normally."

"Yeah, okay. No one's put you up for a medal, but that doesn't mean we didn't notice that you took initiative and helped out where you could. Nobody ordered you to do it."

Tony shrugged. What kind of whacko would have watched a whole bunch of people drown when all it took to save them was closing a stinkin' door? The water wasn't even cold or anything! He'd have done it for strangers and those were his best friends.

"Tell me something, Piccolo. Are you willing to study so you can pass the G.E.D yourself?"

He didn't think they had any tutors in New Leavenworth, but he was hoping he could take remedial classes after he got out of prison. "Uh, sure."

"Let me talk to the captain. We'll work something out with the Navy, but you've got to be willing to work on your own time and make good on this."

"You mean I'm not gonna get court martialled?"

"I don't think so, but if you do, I'll be a character witness on your behalf."

Tony blinked and looked him in the eye. "You will?"

Ford nodded. "Absolutely."

"And you're not gonna send me to the brig?"

"Nope. And if I know Captain Bridger, he won't either. You could have gotten away with this very easily. It shows character that you told the truth."

_Wow_. He caught the stack of uniforms in his peripheral vision. His watch was less than six hours away. "Should I go back to my seaman's duds until you got it worked out?"

"No. You earned your rank. You have every right to be court martialled as a petty officer if you've got to be tried at all. If you're convicted, then you might lose it, but I don't think anyone here would want to see your rank taken away."

Tony just sat there with his jaw on the floor. Commander Ford had the perfect opportunity to get him off the boat forever and he not only wasn't taking it, but he was willing to _help_ him?

"Close your mouth, Tony. Stop being so surprised that you're valuable when you're not screwing around. You've done good by us. We're not going to turn our backs on you."

"I don't know what to say, sir."

"How about 'Thanks'?"

He snapped out of his stupor. "Oh yeah. Thank you, sir. Thank you very much."

Ford extended his hand. "You're welcome. Just keep this quiet until I talk to the captain, okay?"

Tony shook the offered hand, grinning. "You got it. Mum's the word." Eddie was right. He hit the jackpot getting assigned to _seaQuest_. Now he was coming clean, not going to jail, keeping his promotion, and learning to read. Ford walked out while Tony gathered up his uniforms. He muttered to himself, "Man, I oughtta bet on the longshot, 'cause I gotta be the luckiest guy on Earth." On second thought, he'd probably used up all his luck and didn't dare expect any to be left over for race horses. Sheesh, was he getting so respectable that he was thinking of giving up gambling? _Maybe, Piccolo, just may be._


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Warning: this is a kinda mushy Tim/Mary chapter. Some have asked for this and I will indulge a little, but try to keep it brief. _**

**_You could probably skip this without missing much._**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Tim O'Neill sat at the computer in his quarters. He'd gone through his email list three times and it simply wasn't there. He sighed and smacked his bed with an open hand. Deleting all the spam that had accumulated had seemed like an efficient thing to do at the time. He'd done it from the bridge while Lucas was taking a head break, in between mind-numbing astrophysics lectures sped up to about triple speed. The truth was, those lectures hadn't been good for much, at least to him. Lucas understood a lot more than he did.

But after the Hyberions left, there was something bugging him and only one person he could ask about it: Mary. Her last words to him were to check his email, but he'd already deleted it before she told him. As he saw it, he now had two choices: bug Lucas to see if he could retrieve the deleted mail or bug Dr. Smith on her vacation to ask for Mary's email address. He didn't like either choice.

Lucas had retreated to the game world of the Internex and wouldn't appreciate being dragged away to come look at his stupid email account. Tim suspected the deleted mail was gone forever anyway. Anything deleted from a bridge computer was digitally vaporized for security reasons. How could he have been so careless? Well, he knew how. Other than letters from Father Baker and his mother, he rarely got any mail worth reading. He'd made the assumption it was spam on very good odds.

Disturbing Wendy didn't sound much better. She hadn't had any time off during the whole Mobius Hole debacle. She spent all her time helping everyone else. Who did the psychologist talk to when _she_ needed support? Tim guessed it was probably the woman whose card Wendy was handing out when she said goodbye at Galapagos Colony. That was a hint if ever he saw one: _If you want to talk, don't call me, call this stranger_. Yeah, right. Even though this was totally unrelated to counseling, he didn't dare disturb Wendy. Not for several weeks at least.

But waiting several weeks would lessen the chances that Mary would remember anything about the Hyberion language. She said she didn't understand the words, but perceived their meaning through her empathy. But that meant that they actually_ used_ words and that she heard them in her mind. They Transmitted telepathically, like he did, with words. They also communicated empathically, which was why Mary could pick up on their initial confusion and the meaning behind their ritual surrender. But words were somehow involved too.

This wasn't about his orders anymore. Captain Bridger didn't care now. This was a matter of personal and professional curiosity. If they _had_ a language, Tim was bound and determined to learn it. And Mary was the key. She was the only person who had any inkling what their language was like, and if he contacted her soon enough, she might even remember some words or phrases. She'd repeated back Latin with perfect inflection and accent when he was sending a coded message to Father Baker. There was a good chance she could give him accurate samples.

Then it occurred to him. He didn't have to have her email address or her vid-link number. He could call her the same way he did when he was stuck on a life-raft in the north Pacific. But the revelation was both a relief and a source of distress. She'd been rather short with him when she contacted him during the crisis. This email he deleted was probably one of those "get lost, loser" letters. She'd hinted as much when she told him, "You're probably not going to like it." It was one thing to have to read a bug-off letter from an impersonal computer in the privacy of his quarters, but to invade her mind to ask her to repeat it to him personally because he'd been a doofus and deleted it? Awkward, awkward, awkward.

He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling for at least an hour, trying to debate himself out of the whole thing. The aliens were gone. Why bother worrying about their language now? _Because they could come back._ It's no longer your responsibility_. If not mine, then whose?_ How about no one's? _Sure and if the greatest threat to mankind returned, how will you live with yourself knowing you threw away the chance to communicate with them because you were too chicken to talk to a girl?_

No. He _had_ to pursue this, even at the risk of failing, even at the risk of terrible awkwardness. She could slam the door in his face and _then_ he could forget it. Once he decided he had to try to Transmit to her, he spent another long interval trying to decide just how to approach it. Was there a way to knock first, before barging right in and talking? He didn't even know where she lived so he could time it for a reasonable hour. And what should he say? Hi, Mary, remember me? Sheesh, that was lame. But nothing else he could think of sounded any better. Why couldn't Wendy have a Receiver/Transmitter friend who was male? The more he had to think about what to say, the stupider he felt for making such a big deal out of this. He decided she probably lived in the continental United States and if he waited any longer, he'd have a larger risk of waking her up. Since he didn't want to wait another day, it was now or never. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.

_Mary?_

_Tim, is that you?_

_Uh, yeah, it's me. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm not sure what time zone you're in._

_No, it's fine. Did you read my email?_

He sighed. _No. I think I deleted it. Accidentally. I had a lot of spam and I didn't know that you'd sent anything at the time. If it's important, could you resend it?_

_Well, I guess I could. Or I could just tell you what it said._

He held his breath and mentally braced himself.

_I was just confessing to checking up on you. Like, a lot. I swear I never scanned your mind. I just did a quick sweep to see if you were okay. I knew right away when **seaQuest** disappeared because I couldn't find you or Wendy. I knew something bad had happened. Wendy found out I was checking on you and she convinced me that it was violating your privacy, so I stopped. I'm sorry._

Tim released his held breath. _That's it?_

_Uh huh. Just your basic, 'sorry-for-stalking-you, please-don't-think-I'm-a-psycho, can-I-please-just-crawl-in-a-hole-before-I-die-of-embarrassment' letter._

_Mary, I've met some real psychopaths. Trust me, that's the last thing I'd think._

_Well, you're still talking to me, so that's more than I expected._

_If you weren't scanning, why were you checking on me?_

Her voice was meek and shy when she answered,_ Uh… I don't know. Did you ever just drive by someone's house, aching to see that someone, wishing you had the guts to stop and talk, but knowing you didn't, so you just had to be content to catch a glimpse of that person, and then you could sleep because you saw he was okay?_

Oy, did he ever know that feeling. Wait. He? _You wanted to talk… **to me**?_

_Well, sort of. I don't have anything worthwhile to say, but I wish I did. I wish I could hear your voice and…_ she trailed off_._

He waited to see if she would finish, but then the silence became awkward._ Well, you **do** have something important to say. That's why I called. Can you remember anything about the Hyberion language? Words, short phrases maybe?_

_I can do better than that. _Her mindvoice sounded stronger now, maybe even happy.

_What?_

_Their surrender ritual was poignant, but kind of haunting. I didn't want to forget it, so I made a recording of the song._

_They **sang**?_

_I don't know if it was real singing or not, but whatever they were thinking and feeling, it came across like music to me._

_But how did you record it? I thought you said they didn't make sound._

_It's not a recording of **them**. It's me trying to reproduce what I heard in my mind._

Wow. This was much more than he expected to get_. How well do you think you did in reproducing what they said—er…sang?_

_I recorded it within an hour. I think I did pretty good. Oh, and I wrote out a transcript, too. Just phonetic spelling, of course. You want that?_

_Are you kidding? Yes! Please!_

_You realize, I'm not a singer. I think I pronounced all the words right, but I couldn't reproduce their voices._

_Mary, you're probably the only person on all of Planet Earth who has ever heard these aliens. **You** have the key to their language. I don't care how lousy the singing is!_

_Lousy? _There was a note of hurt in her voice.

Crap. The word 'vapid' flooded his memory along with a brain-freeze headache and heavy shuddering. Why did he always say such stupid things to women?_ Or how good. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply your singing was lousy._

_I know. It doesn't matter._

Tim didn't have empathic abilities, but he was pretty sure it_ did _matter to her what he said about her singing, despite what she said_._

_Check your inbox. I sent two files. MP3 is the recording and the RTF is the transcript._

Tim bolted off his bed and scrambled to his computer_. What's your address, so I can route you to my priority folder from now on?_

_M-S-Watkins at Podunk Hermitage dot net._

Tim typed the address into his email program so he'd never delete her mails again_. Got it. The RTF is already here. _He clicked on the file to start the download._ I'm going to need time to study these, but can I call you again to talk about this?_

_You can call me any time you want, to talk about any**thing** you want._

_I don't want to bother you._

_I don't think you could bother me if you tried. I'm the one who was so desperate to catch a mental 'glimpse' of you that I stalked you._

He chuckled_. Feel free to stalk me all you want._

_Are you kidding? I'm trying hard **not** to scan you, you know. Was that serious?_

_Sure. I can't imagine why you'd bother, but I don't care. Tell Wendy I gave you permission._

_She said she thought you'd want to talk to me. I told her she was crazy._

_Well, usually, I don't have anything interesting to say either. Not to mention that I'm new at Transmitting. Is there like an etiquette or something? I mean, if I came to your door, I would knock first or ring a doorbell._

She laughed. _You've always been very considerate, Tim. You say my name and you wait for an answer before you say anything else. I couldn't ask any more than that._

_Oh. Good._

_Did the MP3 make it?_

He'd been too distracted to watch his incoming mail. He blinked and looked down at his monitor. _Yes, it's here. This file is pretty large. How long is the song?_

_I think it's about ten minutes._

_Ten **minutes**? The mothership only hovered a few seconds._

_Tim, how long do you think we've been chatting?_

_Uh… _He had no idea_._

_It's probably shorter than you think. Mind-to-mind communication is faster than spoken._

He remembered how he and Wendy had conducted a whole conversation telepathically in the few seconds between him waking up in the torture chamber and the beating actually beginning._ You memorized a ten-minute song in a few seconds?_

She scoffed lightly._ It's not like I didn't rehearse it over and over in my mind before I recorded it. It's very different. Moving. Kind of hard to forget._

_I can hardly wait to hear it. Lucas and I scoured the Internex, trying to find language samples. We came up completely empty. I didn't dare hope you had more than a few seconds' worth._

_How **is** Lucas?_

_He's happy to be back where he can use a computer again. How much did Wendy tell you about what happened to us?_

_Very little, I'm afraid. She barely had time to tell me she wasn't dead at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. She said something about 1504 and you feeling distress._

_That's an understatement._

_Do you want to talk about it?_

Did he? He didn't want to talk about it with strangers, but Mary was different. He didn't know her very well, but he couldn't call her a stranger either._ Do **you** really want to hear about it?_

_Very much._

Very much? Maybe she wasn't from the States after all. Maybe she lived in some remote jungle where she couldn't get television and her computer was too old to stream video. How bored would a person have to be to want to hear about _his_ escapades? The captain said that nothing from 1504 was classified. He was also allowed to talk about the near-future that Major Allen warned them about, just not about the major himself, or anything they saw in 2165. Not that they'd seen much besides a few British naval vessels and some impressive medical equipment.

_Do you know what a Mobius Hole is?_ he asked.

_I didn't know before, but Wendy mentioned it and I researched it on the Internex. Lucas wrote a very nice Wikipedia article that helped. It's a time-travel door, right?_

He was glad she already knew, but it was just a smidgen depressing that Lucas was yet again the recognized expert and he wasn't even 18 yet. Tim quashed his jealousy and hoped Mary didn't feel it. She said she was trying not to scan him. Maybe he could hide at least _some_ of his faults a while.

_Yes, that's a good analogy. We were minding our own business near the Galapagos Islands when the Mobius Hole appeared out of nowhere…_ The story just spilled from his mind so easily. Mary listened with what came across as interest, asking concerned questions about everyone's injuries and interjecting truly indignant rants about Beauregard. Tim totally forgot he was talking to a girl and got caught up in recounting the events. He told most of the story in great detail, but glossed over his own beating, giving Wendy credit for showing him how to control the bleeding, but not mentioning the fact that it earned him an extra dose of cruelty. He did mention how much he'd wished he could contact her, but had to settle for a dolphin who couldn't answer, except with vague dreams. Tim didn't dwell on his long, painful recovery, but kept the story moving, touching only on the important events.

He hesitated when he came to the point where it was Wendy's turn for her foot beating. He knew Wendy had completely understood why he said all those horrible things about the captain, but he couldn't expect Mary to understand. Besides, Wendy might not want her friend to know about everything they had to do to protect each other. It was one thing to not be totally disgusted with Tim for having to pretend they were lovers, but that didn't mean she wanted him blabbing about it.

_You'll have to ask Wendy about her torture. I don't want to violate her privacy._ He intended to skip the guillotines, chopsticks, and all the bedroom junk, and launch straight into the exciting rescue, but just then, his alarm buzzed. He practically jumped out of his own skin.

_What was that?_ she asked.

His heart was beating so fast, it took him a second to gather his faculties. _Uh… my alarm. _He glanced at the clock's digital numbers._ I've got bridge duty in an hour_. He'd literally stayed up all night, talking telepathically to a woman. He couldn't believe she'd listened that long. _Mary, I'm so sorry. I got carried away_, he said sheepishly.

_No, Tim, **I**'m sorry. You lost a whole night's sleep because of me. We can finish this another time, when you're not busy_.

She wanted to hear more? Maybe she was just being nice. He wouldn't get his hopes up, but he really _did_ want to talk to her again. _Thanks for sending the song and the transcript. I promise I won't delete any more of your emails from now on_.

_I hope they're helpful._

_Well, even if they're not, I'm glad we had this chance to talk._ He wanted to kick himself now for having wasted all that time fretting_._

_You'll call me again then?_

_What time is good for you?_ If she would just give him a time zone, he could plan better.

_Anytime. Really._

He felt his heart beating fast again, but _she_ asked him to call again and _she_ said 'anytime'. Whether it was just being nice or not, he'd be a fool not to pounce on it._ How about twelve hours from now?_

_That's great. Just one thing._

He cringed and squeezed his eyes shut._ What?_

_If something happens and you get delayed, don't worry about it. Just call when you can and don't apologize. This is not some inflexible appointment you have to keep._

He smiled._ I think I can do that._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I did some checking on Westphalen, like you asked," Bill said around a mouthful of hoagie sandwich. They were eating in the mess, but it was nearly deserted because it was close to a shift change.

Nathan perked up. "And?"

"And you were right. Someone _did_ lean on her donors."

The captain narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

"Overbeck."

Nathan ground his teeth. That weasel had managed to get out of jail and was collecting a full admiral's pension while he awaited trial. And the trial had been put off indefinitely because the biggest witness against him, Major Slate, had somehow escaped from a maximum security facility. But at least Overbeck was disgraced enough that he no longer had any power or influence. Surely any donor that had been swayed by that slimy eel would be ready to turn around and support Kristin out of embarrassment, if nothing else. "And you're taking care of it, right?" It wasn't really a question.

Bill put on a condescending smile. "Full uniform and full Noyce charm on the vid-link just as soon as it's business hours in the States."

"Good." Nathan lifted his iced tea to his lips.

"You'd better invite us to the wedding."

The captain sputtered tea all over the table. "_What?_"

Bill chuckled. "You heard me."

Yes, he _had_ heard. Quite well, in fact. But _married_? Okay, he'd definitely fallen for Kristin. As their first tour together was ending, he was coming close to using that four-letter L-word. But she didn't ask for any help in fighting the loss of her grants and she had hardly seemed to miss him at all. And so soon after she left _seaQuest_, he had that silly infatuation with Wendy and doubt completely took over. Maybe he was just a dirty old sailor after all. Or maybe he just wasn't over Carol. He didn't know anymore.

He'd been careful not to ask Kristin about her personal life after their unwelcome separation because he was too afraid she might be getting close to his old friend, Malcolm Landsdowne, again. The dolphin researcher had settled down to raise Caesar Tezlof, the autistic son of a recently executed dictator. Between Malcolm's charm and Kristin's strong motherly instincts, he could see the two of them gravitating toward each other quite easily. He didn't admit it when Kristin first guessed he was jealous, but that was exactly what it was. Absence had made his heart grow fonder and his jealousy grow deeper.

The captain wiped up his tea with a napkin while watching Bill's amusement play over his face. "Do you know something I don't?"

The admiral raised his hands. "Nope. But if she'll have you, you'd better not screw it up. How many good women do you think are out there who'd put up with someone your age?"

Nathan smirked and shook his head. "My _age_? You're older than I am, why don't you tell me."

"Not many. She's a keeper, Nathan. You two are good together."

"Well, I don't know if there's going to be any 'together' or not, but if there is, is that going to be a problem?"

Bill snorted softly. "Any possibility of sexual harassment?"

"Not against her, but me maybe." He kept his voice low and let his old friend see the humor in his eyes.

"Good. Just what you need."

"What I _need_ is the best science department head we've ever had."

"Then good luck getting her. I can talk to the grant donors, but it's going to be up to you to woo her back to _seaQuest_."

"Fair enough. Tell me when you've done _your_ part and I'll get busy on mine." Nathan stood and picked up his tray. "You coming to the bridge?"

"Naw. I think I'll take a nap."

The captain scoffed. "And you say _I'm_ old." He made sure his tone was light and jesting. Bill had been retired for almost nine months. Nathan knew too well how difficult it was to get back into the work routine. And he didn't want his friend to quit. He clapped Bill on the back and left the mess.

The bridge was running efficiently. If the Hyberions had done anything to _seaQuest_ besides pick her up and scan her to see that they weren't bluffing about a self-destruct device, then no one had been able to find any evidence of it. She was still in tip-top shape from all the attention given her back in the Black Sea. Nathan had avoided the Strait of Magellan just because he didn't want to deal with the traffic, and possibly, as Noyce had suggested, to prolong the voyage just a little. The Drake Passage was only treacherous to surface vessels, not submarines. And taking the slightly further route didn't add more than a few hours because they didn't have to slow down to navigate the sharper turns.

"Have we passed Cape Horn yet, Commander?" He was just making idle conversation as well as trying to discern their position without getting too formal about it.

"Yes, sir. Passed it an hour ago. You know anyone who needs ear piercing?"

Only Jonathan would make such an obscure joke, but after their recent bout with time traveling, it was all the more appreciated by the captain. Suddenly, he remembered something that happened on the first day of the tour, before he even came aboard. "Lucas, you remember me telling you that your earring wasn't regulation?"

Lucas looked up with a confused expression, taking a second before he remembered. "Yeah, I took it off."

Nathan remembered. The teen hadn't even argued about it. "Well, if you want, today is one time you can wear it."

Lucas looked back and forth between the captain and commander, completely bewildered. Nathan saw Ford give a wink and a nod, but this wasn't enough for the teen genius whose expression suggested he thought they'd all been guzzling the crazy juice while Dr. Smith was away.

Nathan smiled and launched into a short history lesson. "Passing Cape Horn was a big accomplishment in the days of clipper ships because it was—and still is—extremely dangerous. Any sailors who survived it traditionally got their left ear pierced. On a west-to-east passage, which was the most common, the left ear would have faced the Cape."

The kid beamed a toothy smile, blue eyes sparkling. "Very cool. But just today?"

"Well, it's hardly a challenge in a submarine. And it's still technically against regulations, but I think we can make an exception this once, for history's sake." Of course, he didn't mention the tradition of dining with one's foot on the table. That would have been pushing it even without an admiral in the mess hall.

Lucas stood. "It's back in my quarters; can I go get it?"

The captain nodded with a wink. Lucas bolted off. It just then occurred to him that Lucas shouldn't have been on the duty roster at all. Nathan had purposely lumped him in with all the science crew. Their work was done; they were just passengers now, along for the ride. After Lucas got on the mag-lev, Nathan sidled up to Ford. "Did you call him down here?"

"No, sir. I think he just got tired of playing games all by himself. _He_ asked _me_ if he could come down and run viral sweeps."

"Viral sweeps? Do we need them?" That was a tedious task, one Lucas normally avoided like the plague.

Ford shrugged. "It's been a good four months. They'd do it in dry dock, but I didn't think it'd do any harm for him to do one now. Is there a problem?"

"Just my shock."

"I know. But how many times in that prison did I wish I had something to do other than stare at the walls, even if it was something I dreaded."

Nathan nodded. He'd had the very same thoughts and probably Lucas had too. But it was one thing to dream of doing a dreaded job while imprisoned, quite another to _volunteer_ to do it when other options were available. The captain lowered his voice to a whisper. "Has he said anything about his plans for between tours?"

Ford pressed his lips together and shook his head tightly. "Not to me. But I'm surprised he hasn't said something to _you_."

"This is the first time I've seen him unplugged since the crisis." Nathan did feel a little guilty that he hadn't checked on him sooner. Then again, Lucas was getting old enough that he shouldn't need someone to remind him to eat and sleep. Besides, Piccolo wouldn't let him get too far gone. He'd worried at the beginning of the tour that Piccolo would be a bad influence on Lucas, but the opposite had proven true. The delinquent seaman was now a petty officer and even had the guts to admit he lied to his recruiter when he thought the admission would land him back in the brig.

The captain had already told Noyce that there better not be the slightest repercussions against him for coming clean like that. He didn't know how, but both he and the commander were determined their newest petty officer would get the education he lacked. If he'd gotten this far without being able to read, there was no telling what kinds of leaps he was capable of once he got on an even keel. Nathan hadn't yet suggested to Lucas that he might be the one to provide tutoring, but it did seem like a logical choice as long as it didn't put them at each others' throats.

But he was getting ahead of himself. They would be off _seaQuest_ for more than three months before it was time for the next tour. Nathan already knew he would be spending all his time schmoozing with Senate appropriations committees, attending Pentagon finance hearings, and appearing before UEO budget panels. It wasn't his idea of a restful leave, but he hadn't saved the planet from aliens just to let the oceans get overrun by power-hungry humans. The world needed more than just one submarine with _seaQuest_'s capabilities. He decided way back in Devonport that he wasn't going to rest until they listened to him and built another one… or two.

But where did that leave Lucas? After the plane crash, he had fully expected Lawrence Wolenczak to demand that Lucas come live with him, so he'd be safer. He was much more mature now and conducted himself like a responsible adult. His father wouldn't even have to watch him very closely. And as much as Nathan would have missed him, it would have been worth it to spare him from the ordeal in 1504.

But from what he'd heard, Dr. Wolenczak spent more time chewing out McGath for making a mistake than he did showing relief that his son hadn't been in the crash. He'd already arranged to take time off for a funeral, but instead of using it to visit his injured son, he'd gone right back to work with nothing more than a vid-link call. And if one near-death incident hadn't been enough, then surely after _seaQuest_ went missing for a week, both of Lucas's parents should be chomping at the bit to see him.

Nathan's first instinct was to stay out of the teen's family issues. But he knew he couldn't do that any more. He was still haunted by the confession of his older self that he'd abandoned the young man when he most needed him. There was no telling whether the deaths of Lucas's parents would still occur in the next ten years or not. But if they weren't going to show their son any love and concern right _now_, when he was psychologically wounded and vulnerable, when he was still legally a minor, and when they'd come so close to losing him _twice_, then they may as well be dead. If Lucas had been content with sharing a tiny berth on a sailboat, then surely he wouldn't feel slighted if Nathan offered to share whatever scant accommodations he was sure to be stuck in over the next three months. But only if he didn't have any other plans. Fall and early winter would be a whole lot more fun in New Cape Quest than in Washington D.C.

Lucas returned with his little gold hoop in his ear and a wide smile on his face.

"It's in his left ear," Nathan said in a voice meant to be overheard by the whole crew. "We don't have to turn the boat around after all."

Ford's eyes revealed he caught the humor and he continued in the same spirit. "Turn around? I thought we'd just pierce the other ear."

"Hmm. There's an idea. More holes in his head."

"Hey, I'm not getting any more holes unless I can wear the earring all the time," Lucas said.

Nathan smirked. "Give him an inch, he takes a mile. Tell you what, if you crew on _skyQuest_ around the Cape, _then_ we'll talk."

Lucas smiled like he was actually considering it. _Teenagers_. Nathan shook his head and clapped him on the back. He waited a good hour before taking a meandering tour of the bridge, stopping at each station to ask for in-depth updates. He often did this during slow, uneventful watches so that his crew had an opportunity to mention the little things he normally didn't want to hear. Ortiz would report he'd seen a pod of grey whales on the periphery of a WSKRS scan. Henderson would mention how a joystick on the helm control was pulling left more than usual. Brody would tell him if one of his missile indicator lights had a flicker. He encouraged his people to have an intimate knowledge of all their systems. As long as they understood when the minor things should be brought up, he wanted to know too. _SeaQuest_ was like a living organism and he kept his finger on her pulse whenever he could.

He also took a little time today to ask his crew about their plans. He didn't do this every time he made rounds, but frequently when a shore leave was coming up. He didn't pry if anyone didn't wish to share. It was simply a way to show interest in their lives outside the Navy and to promote a closer camaraderie. "Mitchell, you coming back for another tour?" he asked casually.

"Yes, sir. Going home to Arkansas for a while, but I'll be back in Florida for shakedowns."

"Was it you that brought back venison jerky last time?"

The petty officer grinned. "Yep. That and the ginger snaps. My wife always makes a huge batch right before I ship out."

"Ginger snaps, eh? I must have missed those." He patted the petty officer on the shoulder and moved on. Watts and Young had both decided not to reenlist. While he was sorry to lose anyone who was competent and experienced, he could hardly blame them after the beating and imprisonment. It was actually amazing that he was only losing two out of the eleven who'd endured that nightmare.

While he listened to everyone's plans with genuine interest and attention, he'd started the rounds mainly to ask Lucas without seeming like he was singling him out. He came to the Computer Analyst station in a logical sequence. "How are the viral sweeps coming?"

Lucas shrugged. "Not bad. I'm experimenting with a subroutine that cuts the time it takes by 30%. It should be done by the end of the watch."

Nathan couldn't help the upturn of his brows. "That's great, Lucas. Any little quirks in the computer I should know about?"

He shook his head. "She's purring like a kitten. I hope the dry dock guys aren't going to mess with her systems too much."

"I thought you'd be happy we're finally getting upgrades." Nathan watched closely while he spoke. Sure enough, Lucas's eyes widened and his whole head jerked upright at that last word.

"Upgrades? Like hardware or software?"

"Both. And if there's anything you want for her that you haven't previously put in a report, now's the time to make a wishlist."

"_Anything_ I want?"

Nathan chuckled. "Within reason. But you need to explain why _seaQuest_ needs it and it better not be in terms of scoring points against Wolfman."

Lucas didn't lose his enthusiasm. "Gotta justify it. Okay, I can do that. When do you need the recommendations?"

"Preferably before Admiral Noyce disembarks. No promises, now, but when you've just narrowly escaped alien abduction and had it televised around the world, they tend to treat you like heroes for a while. This is the best time to ask for favors."

Lucas grinned. "So what favors are _you_ asking for?"

Nathan scoffed lightly. "Oh nothing much, just another _seaQuest_-class submarine."

"Another one? But _this_ one is only fourteen months old, sixteen if you count the time in the Black Sea."

"Not for _me_, pal. We have far too many oceans on this planet to cover by ourselves and it's high time the UEO understood that and did something about it."

"Do you think they'll listen?"

He shrugged. It was never easy to get money out of politicians. The _Wile E. Coyote Incident_, as the crew were starting to call the encounter with the alien ship, could work in their favor because it brought to light how vulnerable the UEO was to only have one _seaQuest_. But as Noyce had pointed out, it could also work against them, swaying Congress towards building defensive spacecraft. "I don't know, but there won't be a better time to ask."

"So you'll be in Washington for a while," Lucas reasoned.

"Until they say yes or until I'm needed back here." He pointed to his captain's seat. "What about you? What are you going to be doing over the break?"

The excitement that had been on his face and in his eyes since the mention of upgrades faded quickly, but he tried to feign enthusiasm in his voice. "My mom is picking me up at the dock."

"And you're happy to see her or not?" He kept his tone even. It wasn't an interrogation. He didn't have to talk about this at all if he didn't want to. It really wasn't any of Nathan's business.

Lucas looked him in the eyes. "I'd be happier if I didn't know that my mom and dad fought over who was going to pick me up. I'm not even sure if Mom is the winner or the loser."

"She's the winner. And if she can't see that, then I bet we can find someone else who would be happy to take her place."

"You wanna come to Cuba?" Miguel offered. "_Mi madre_ would just love to fatten you up. I've even got pretty cousins guaranteed to ogle over you."

Jim and Tony also offered Lucas hospitality in their respective homes. While they were talking, Nathan removed a calling card from his shirt pocket and wrote on the back: **You need anything, just call, but don't give this number to anyone who's not from **_**seaQuest**_**.** He had an old-fashioned voice-only cell phone that he used on land just for friends and emergencies. Ever since basic phone service without Internex or vid-link became universally free, like CB and ham radio had always been, he'd kept the same number. He slipped the card into Lucas's hand without a word.

Lucas read it and looked up with a gaze that Nathan had a hard time interpreting as anything other than relief. His smile was all the thanks necessary, and Nathan patted him on the back before moving down to the communications station. "Mr. O'Neill, how is our window on the outside world?"

"Mostly routine, although I'm monitoring a couple of odd signals coming from the Amazonian Confederation."

"I'm sure they'd just love to get even after we busted up their little Scarab project. Anything to worry about?"

"I think they can track us if we have the buoy up, but it's probably useless otherwise. An empty carrier wave."

"We're not trying to hide right now. Let them track us. But note it in the log for future reference. We might want to hide some other time."

"Aye, sir."

"What're your plans for leave, Tim?"

"I'll take a trip to San Diego to visit my mother at Christmas. Other than that, no big plans."

Nathan nodded thoughtfully. _Christmas_. He hadn't even thought that far ahead. Washington would be closed up for Christmas. He'd probably be free to go home. And wasn't Lucas's birthday close to that time? He'd have to make a point of finding out where he was and calling him when he turned eighteen. He moved toward Ford's station. "Any anomalies to report, Commander?"

"No, sir. I'm beginning to get worried."

"Worried?"

"Nothing ever runs this smoothly for long before there's a major crisis."

The captain chuckled. "I think we've already had more than our share of crises for a while. Let's keep our fingers crossed for an uneventful homecoming."

"And in answer to your next question: I'm going to Nepal."

Nathan opened his mouth to question the odd destination, but remembered just in time that the elder Ford had been headed there. "To see your father."

He nodded. "It's landlocked, so not much likelihood of _seaQuest_ ever going there. I figured this was my chance to see it."

Leave it to Jonathan Ford to take a holiday in the Himalayas with winter approaching. At least it sounded more restful than how he spent his last long leave, taking some high-level theoretical nuclear physics class. "Good for you."

"Sir, if I may ask?" Tony ventured cautiously.

"What is it, Piccolo?"

"If you're goin' to Washington and Lucas is goin'… er…" Tony shot a look at his roommate nervously, "somewhere else, what's Darwin gonna do with _seaQuest_ in dry dock?"

"Good question." And one Nathan hadn't even thought of yet. "He'll be free to go anywhere he likes, as always."

Tony looked down. "Except back to _seaQuest_."

Yes, Darwin would miss his human friends, but Nathan couldn't take him to Washington. Even in his snazzy wetsuit, the dolphin still had too many exposed parts to try to live in water that cold around the clock. Nathan wouldn't have enough time to ever see him anyway. The captain shrugged. "We'll tell him it'll be a long time before we come back. He may just find a mate and decide to leave us for good."

Lucas and Tony both looked alarmed, but neither said anything to confirm it. Nathan wasn't keen on the thought of losing his cetacean friend either, but he didn't know what to do about it.

"You think if I went swimmin' in the ocean, he'd come join me?" Tony was looking at the floor now and his forehead was wrinkled slightly, like he was wincing.

He wasn't just wondering out loud. Piccolo knew very well that Darwin would find him if he wore his _seaQuest_-supplied diving watch. He also knew that no one could stop him from swimming in the Atlantic while he was on leave. He was proposing to befriend the dolphin in a way that could possibly usurp Nathan's special relationship with him. And the fact that he sought approval first warmed Nathan to the bone.

"I'm sure he would. You'll look after him from time to time? Remind him to stay away from the fishing boats?"

Tony grinned and the creases of concern melted away. "I'd be happy to, sir."

"You won't have a vocorder," Lucas reminded him.

Tony scoffed. "He ain't the one that needs it."

It was true. Darwin understood English a lot better than the humans understood him, with or without a vocorder.

"I don't think Piccolo _wants_ a vocorder," Nathan said in the direction of Lucas. "Darwin still outranks him. This way he can't order him to swim to France or anything."

The bridge erupted in laughter and even Tony smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Lucas stood at the foot of the stairs that led to the hatch exit of his and Tony's quarters. He gave the room a once-over to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything important. He didn't think he'd be getting new quarters after dry dock, but too many people would be working all over the boat and nothing that wasn't standard navy equipment would be secure if left behind. He'd boxed up his CPU and his music gear to be left in a locked storage area and packed his clothes and smaller items in his duffel, including a portable mini computer. He didn't plan to use it for anything but a guilt trip. He knew full well that when he whipped out that beat-up piece of outdated junk, that his parents would trip all over themselves and each other to buy him a new one. Guilt tended to have that effect on them.

It was a little underhanded to play them that way, but he figured that was the least they owed him. He wanted to believe differently, but experience had taught him that Mom would keep him no more than a week before she'd need to be jetting off to Europe or Hong Kong or something. It was truly amazing how she could travel so much and yet still never cross paths with _seaQuest_. Lucas wasn't stupid, he knew she could see him more if she really wanted to, even when they were on tour. But that wasn't the issue right now. He had no plans, no place to be, no impediments for her to work around.

Did she even realize how old he was now? Did she think he was still that 10-year-old who hacked the air traffic control system while in mid-air, trying to get their flight a priority landing status because Mom had said she was in a hurry? Instead, the pilot was forced to land immediately so the plane could be searched for the "terrorist" that ended up being him. He wasn't that kid anymore. Mom _could_ choose to take him with her now and he wouldn't embarrass her or get in her way.

He didn't need babysitting while she was working either. He could entertain himself just fine during the day and then be there when she came home. They could eat dinner together, maybe watch a movie; she could try to convince him to dress nicer and get a haircut, all the usual Mom stuff. _Right, and then Santa Claus would show up and grant some other impossible wish._ His brain told him that spending a pleasant holiday with one or both parents wasn't any less likely than spending six weeks in 1504 or winning a battle against an alien spaceship, so why did it _feel_ so hopeless?

His quarters were very empty now, and lonely. He suppressed a sigh, shouldered his duffel strap, and marched up the stairs. Tony had left long ago. He wanted to be standing at the open cargo bay doors, all tall and proud in his petty officer uniform when the surfaced _seaQuest_ glided into her berth. Scuttlebutt was that there were close to 3000 people crowded on the docks, cheering and waving flags. Lucas tried to summon some sense of excitement and anticipation, but he wasn't really succeeding.

The captain had given all the civilians priority in disembarking, but Lucas didn't care to rush off _seaQuest_. He liked holding back and watching all the Navy guys charge into the arms of their loved ones, those with wives and husbands meshing for a long, unadulterated embrace, accompanied by an epic kiss-of-the-year. He expected even Tony would be met with a big aunt-hug and adoring nieces and nephews jumping on his shoulders for piggyback rides.

Lucas would wait until it was just the guys who didn't have anyone meeting them in New Cape Quest—guys like Mitchell, whose family would be waiting at an airport in Arkansas, and Miguel, whose family would welcome him in Cuba. At this point, the crowds would be clumped around their loved ones and it would be easier to find Mom, probably waving from the back of the throng somewhere. She'd kiss him on the cheek and be happy to see him and all would be wonderful for at least a day or two. _Just try not to think about anything but the present_, he admonished himself.

The captain and admiral had stood with the rest of the crew for the triumphant procession into port. Both of them, along with most of the other officers, had gone back to work after the photo op. They'd be last off the boat, making sure everything was secured. From what he'd picked up, only Brody had anyone meeting him here: a girlfriend, evidently.

When he first came aboard, Lucas had always tried to hide his family's dysfunctions from the rest of the crew. He smiled and acted like everything was fine and simply didn't talk about it. He was quite adept at the art of avoidance and ambiguity. But he was closer to everyone now. He didn't go out of his way to tell people, but when the captain asked, he told the truth and he didn't sugar-coat it. Ten different people besides the captain had given Lucas contact information along with a promise to come get him or to send a ticket, and then welcome him into their homes or to share whatever temporary housing they were using. He didn't know how he would choose whom to impose upon, but it was comforting to know he wouldn't have to stay in Mom's apartment alone once she took off for heaven-knew-where.

Two months ago, the prospect of being alone wouldn't have been a big deal at all. Mom always left a wad of cash for him to buy ramen noodles, microwave burritos, and delivery pizza to his heart's desire. In the past, he'd have plugged into the Internex until the next tour started. But after being in near-solitary confinement for six weeks, the thought of more than a day alone would trigger a panic attack. The Internex hadn't even been that much comfort when he was at home, on _seaQuest_. He didn't want to talk through monster avatars and voice synthesizers any more than he wanted to yell across invisible cell walls while being clamped to a stone chair.

He wanted to be _with_ people, real people who counted him a friend because they enjoyed his company, not because of family obligations. He didn't care where, nor did he care about sightseeing or activities. Sure, it was fun to spend vacation waverunning on PWCs or going skiing in Colorado. But Lucas derived satisfaction just doing simple, everyday things like walking a dog or riding a bicycle. He'd even take out the trash or shovel snow if it would show his host some gratitude. Taking pleasure in the ordinary was the only way he could put the nightmare behind him, the only way he could feel like he'd finally beat Scratchy Voice Guy. The mad Frenchman was dead, but every time Lucas woke up panting in a cold sweat or felt his heart racing at the thought of being alone, he could hear his torturer's cackling, the haunting sound echoing through his mind.

He planned to give Mom every opportunity to be the one he shared his leave time with. He would gladly give his father the same chance, if he showed the slightest interest in seeing him. Lucas had spoken to him briefly just after _seaQuest_ arrived in the twenty-first century and he'd mentioned several times that extended leave was coming up soon. Dad had said he wanted to connect, but "wasn't sure he could get away." That was Dad-code for "Don't bet on it, Son." Why did both of his parents think he was bent on disrupting their work or their private lives?

Although they never said so, it was as if they'd both sworn off the opposite sex ever since it landed them with the burden of a son. Okay, so it could have been the rocky marriage that drove them to abstinence, but since they'd long since separated, they should have been able to get past that, while his presence seemed to be a persisting nuisance. Lucas kept telling himself that if they didn't prove they really wanted him in their lives, when he turned eighteen in a few months, he would just give them what they seemed to want most from him, and that was to disappear. It hurt too much to keep begging for attention that they couldn't or wouldn't give him.

He realized as he wandered onto the dock that he was over-analyzing everything. He needed to stop thinking and just go with the flow. He gazed out over the teeming masses, vaguely aware of how happy everyone else was. Mom's hair was dyed red right now. He'd noticed that much on the vid-link, so he scanned for a redhead that might be waving. He found a waving red-headed female and when he saw her, she called, "Lucas! Is that you?"

That wasn't Mom's voice or Mom's usual subdued personality. It only took a second for him to recognize, grin, and call back, "Dr. Westphalen!"

She surged through the crowds and met him with a hug second only to Dagwood's in strength. "You've grown so much! I hardly recognized you!"

"I didn't know you were coming. Does the captain know?"

She shook her head, still beaming that irrepressible Westphalen smile. "I thought I'd surprise him. Is he around?" She relented from the death-hug, but didn't retract the arm around his shoulders. She pulled him against her side and held him there.

He felt so warm inside, so loved. It was an effort to concentrate on anything with his emotions so engaged, but he managed to answer her question: "Still on _seaQuest_, I think. You know how he is. He won't leave until everyone else is off."

She chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. "Same old Nathan. So tell me, how have you been? Where are you staying?"

He sighed. He didn't have time to go into his reasons for being less than himself right now, but he couldn't muster the energy to fake it either. Dr. Westphalen wouldn't want him to anyway. He just shook his head. "The last few months have been hard. I'd love to tell you about it, but I'm supposed to be meeting my mom. The captain can explain it when you see him."

Her brows shot up at the mention of Mom. "Your mother is here? That's wonderful. What does she look like? I'll help you find her."

"Red hair—darker than yours, kinda short. She'll probably be dressed in a business suit." He'd thought she would be easy to spot because everyone else was dressed so casually.

"Short hair or short Mom?"

He laughed. "Both."

The doctor loosened her hold on him so that they could divide their attention better, but she still didn't let go completely. Her hand rested on his shoulder while she scanned the crowds. "How about over there?" she said, pointing with her free hand.

Lucas followed her direction, but the well-dressed redhead who was talking to another family wasn't Mom. He shook his head. "That's not her."

They looked for a good fifteen minutes before Lucas shrugged. "I guess she's late." _Again_. Three thousand people coming to meet adult crewmembers had made it there long before _seaQuest_ even showed up, but the parent of the only minor onboard couldn't even get there by the time the stragglers started getting off.

"Maybe she got stuck in traffic?" Dr. Westphalen offered. He hadn't seen her in ages, but he knew her well enough to realize she didn't really think so.

"I don't see how, when everyone else is already here." He hadn't meant to sound bitter, but it came out that way. He didn't apologize.

She inclined her head, looking back at him with concern evident in her eyes. "All right. So she's an inconsiderate cad." He laughed and she drew him in for another hug. "There. That's better now."

He felt tears threaten, but he staved them off. "I missed you so much. You _are_ coming back, right?"

Her eyes widened. "Coming back?"

"To _seaQuest_. Hasn't the captain told you yet?" The surprise on her face proved Lucas had jumped the gun and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"No, but I've evaded his calls lately because I was afraid I'd ruin the surprise. What happened to your last CMO—Dr. Smith, was it?"

"She's stepping down to be our full-time psychologist and to study parapsychology. She's empathic."

"Yes, I've heard a lot about her. But _full-time_ psychologist?"

Lucas knew she was skeptical that the UEO would ever authorize an expenditure so "frivolous". He'd had the same doubt himself, but Wendy had to know better than he did and she was sure it would be approved. "After what we've been through, I don't think they can say no."

She furrowed her brows and gave him one of her patented doubt looks, crossing her arms over her chest. He didn't think she doubted his truthfulness, but probably his conclusion. He tried not to melt under her glaring scrutiny. "I can't imagine what would loosen their purse strings." After a second, her glare dissolved into concern and her voice softened. "Was it bad?"

He sighed, nodding emphatically. "Oh yeah. This insane Frenchman took the whole bridge crew prisoner. He forced us to watch each other get whipped. He had two guillotines and asked me to choose whether Commander Ford or Lieutenant Brody lost a leg." Lucas realized belatedly that she didn't know who Brody was, but it didn't matter. "When I refused to pick one, he chopped them both off. Well, it looked like it anyway. We never did find out if it never really happened or whether he reattached the legs. He was from the future and he had all these impressive gadgets. Even Commander Ford said it totally felt like it was chopped off, but they both have their legs back now."

The doctor's eyes grew wider with every new detail. She shook her head and frowned like a mother bear. It was probably a good thing for Beauregard that he was dead because Kristin Westphalen looked like she could bite his head off across the whole space-time continuum. "It sounds like you _do_ need a full-time psychologist." But needing it and getting it were often not the same thing. He could see the doubt in her eyes, but she didn't voice it.

"Captain Bridger probably wants to ask you himself to come back. And now he'll wanna kill me because I ruined his surprise."

She rolled her eyes. "Ha! I've got the advantage on surprise today. So you think he'll be glad to see me?" She sounded rather nervous about that point.

Lucas chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Big time. Just don't tell him I told you."

She smiled angelically and batted her eyelashes. "Told me what?"

He started to fantasize about shrinking himself so he could sneak into Dr. Westphalen's purse and go home with her instead of his mother. On second thought, after she saw Captain Bridger, it might be terribly awkward. The last time he'd seen the doctor and the captain together, they'd been _very close_. He'd interrupted an intimate moment and the memory still stung. No, those two needed their privacy.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see his mother, dressed as he'd expected, in a tailored grey pinstripe, her short red hair perfectly coiffed, carrying her burgundy leather briefcase with the gold latches. Even after seeing his face, she didn't seem to recognize him. "Lucas?"

"Mom!" He dropped his duffel and hugged his mother, although it wasn't quite as enthusiastic as the hug he'd shared with Dr. Westphalen.

His mother prompted a quick release, either out of embarrassment or possibly courtesy to Dr. Westphalen, although with the who-the-heck-are-you look she was glaring at the doctor, Lucas would have guessed the former. He was trying to remember the proper order for introductions when Dr. Westphalen spoke.

"You must be Mrs. Wolenczak. Kristin Westphalen." She extended her hand.

_Uh oh_. Lucas tried not to cringe. He wanted to smooth this over quickly, but the words didn't come.

"Actually, I never took my husband's name. It's Tellerman and it's _mizz_."

Mom didn't even offer her first name. Lucas mentally kicked himself for not pouncing on the introductions sooner. Dr. Westphalen didn't flinch or retract her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tellerman."

Mom shook hands with her stiffly. Lucas couldn't stand to see her treat the doctor so coldly. "You remember I told you about Dr. Westphalen? She was on the raft with me during Hurricane Sheila."

"Oh, _Doctor _Westphalen. Yes, I remember now." Mom managed a polite smile.

It was obvious how much the mention of her status had raised Mom's opinion and Lucas didn't like it one bit. Kristin Westphalen was a brilliant scientist with fierce loyalties and a compassionate heart. But all Mom ever saw were labels. Never mind how big a breakthrough he'd made with the vocorder, when was he going to get a PhD? Lucas could have earned one by now. There were enough professors from universities all over the world on _seaQuest_. Several of them had offered to sponsor him through the process. But he didn't want another degree or another label while he was still just a kid. Biff Pickering had a PhD and he didn't have any more respect than Lucas did, probably less. He wasn't going to write a doctorate thesis until he had something worthy to report. Maybe if he and Miguel and Lance Daniels ever succeeded in translating whale song, he'd do his thesis on that. But labels weren't really a priority. He had more important things to do with his time.

He needed to get Mom out of here before she saw the captain or worse, Admiral Noyce. He knew he also needed to calm down and ratchet his discontent back a few notches. Mom had been civil and pleasant even if frosty. "Where's the car?" Lucas said. "I'm beat."

Mom had been watching Dr. Westphalen, but without the glare or snobby highbrows she'd first employed. She jerked her gaze back to him. "Pennington was driving around in circles. But people are starting to leave, so he may have found a parking spot by now."

Lucas had to admit that finding a parking space would have been difficult and it was a lot more reasonable excuse for her tardiness than traffic. He scanned the parking lot for a moving limo. "There." He pointed.

"Yes, that's him," Mom said. "Nice meeting you, Doctor."

"Likewise," Dr. Westphalen said. Lucas couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not, which meant Mom probably wouldn't suspect anything. He shouldered his bag and pressed lightly on Mom's back to encourage her in the right direction.

"Email me," Lucas called over his shoulder.

She smiled and nodded. "I will. You have a good leave. Maybe we can get together before the next tour."

"I'd like that." He was yelling now, so he didn't say anything more. He turned around and waved and saw her wave back, then he did his best to put Dr. Westphalen out of his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Nathan met his officers on the bridge after everyone else, including the admiral, had disembarked. Several were already dressed in civvies, ready for leave to begin. "Any last-minute problems?" He was almost positive there wouldn't be. The trip home had been uneventful and _seaQuest_ had operated smoothly. Even if there was a glitch now, it was unlikely to be a problem when she was headed to dry dock.

All the gathered shook their heads. Commander Ford answered for everyone, "No, sir. She's ship-shape."

He nodded acknowledgement. "I probably should have asked this sooner, but is everyone planning to come back next tour?" He'd asked some while on bridge duty, but not all of them yet.

Most everyone got a chuckle out of this. Commander Ford had signed off on all the officer reviews, so anyone leaving would have to seek transfer or resign from the Navy. Anyone who cared about his or her career would be stupid to transfer off the UEO's flagship and most would give their right arms (or in Brody and Ford's cases, their right _legs_) to be on _seaQuest_. Still, this had been a very rough tour, full of multiple incidents that were never covered in the recruitment advertisements. For a supposed research vessel, there had been quite a bit more "peacekeeping" than he'd liked and he knew the future was going to be just as bad, if not worse. He didn't want to take his outstanding people for granted. Everyone nodded.

"Excellent. Have a good leave and I'll see you all when you get back. Dismissed."

There were whoops, high-fives, and happy chatter as the bridge cleared. Nathan smiled after them for a few seconds before wandering slowly to the captain's station. He reached down and turned the master ignition key. The lights went out, both overhead and on consoles. Only a few running lights on the floor remained. He sighed and slipped the heavy computer key into his pocket. The velvet-padded box engraved with his name was in his quarters and he had to go back to pick up his duffel anyway. He turned and headed toward the clamshell doors.

Just then he noticed Ford was waiting by the mag-lev. "Were you waiting for me?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No, I think I was just putting off the inevitable. I hate leaving her for dry dock. It's just… _unnatural_, like a fish out of water. Look how hard we fought to keep aliens from yanking her out and then we pull into port and yank her out ourselves."

Nathan chuckled. "Relax, Jonathan. Our planet is 70% ocean, but somehow the Hyberions couldn't _find_ the water and left her in a cornfield. There might be a few morons in our navy, but I'm sure they can all _find _the Atlantic. Our guys will have her back in the water by New Years, with upgrades and overhauls."

"Yeah, and they'll expect _us_ to fix all the stuff _they_ mess up."

"Job security." He placed his hand on the commander's shoulder. "And nothing we can't handle."

He nodded. "You're right."

They boarded the mag-lev and after being seated, Nathan lowered his voice. "For the record, I hate dry dock too. Noyce said something about putting me on a _Navis_ and I keep dreaming he does it."

"_Navis_ wouldn't be so bad. Better than _my_ nightmares."

"Still dreaming of If?"

Another short nod. "You?"

"Honestly? Not that much. I have more nightmares about that vid-interview with the time bobby." Ford would know he meant the one of his older self and Major Allen.

"We've changed the future. It can't happen now."

Nathan felt a chill course his spine. "I hope not."

Jonathan had the good form not to say any more. They reached their destination and exited the mag-lev. The younger man cracked a small smile. "Good luck in Washington."

"Thanks. I'm going to need it. Send me a postcard from Nepal."

"I'll do that."

They shook hands and parted ways in the corridor without any awkward farewells. Nathan was rather relieved it wasn't like the end of the first tour, when everyone was giving gifts and saying goodbye like it was—what did Lucas call it?—a bad birthday party. A few months in dry dock was nothing like building a whole new boat from scratch. She'd be back in the water in no time.

He deposited the key in its fancy wooden box and left it on his desk. Someone would have to start her up to get her to the shipyard. It occurred to him that this was an awful lot like trusting a very expensive car to unknown valet-parking attendants. It made him wary, but then again, _seaQuest_ was the fruition of his dreams and his command, but not his personal property. The Navy would take good care of her. _They'd better or there'd be hell to pay_.

He gathered up his toiletry items and added them to his already-packed duffel. He looked over the room to make sure he hadn't left out anything that might be broken or stolen, but it was mostly books and various pieces of antique naval memorabilia that he kept for décor. He would miss his quarters, but not because of the furnishings. _SeaQuest_ embodied home, and his quarters were part of it, but not the totality. He needed ocean surrounding him and his crew at his side. Without those elements, it was just another room, and not a very large one at that. Chiding himself inwardly for his sentimentality, he shouldered his duffel and took off out the hatch.

As he walked the corridors one last time, his mind was on traveling arrangements. He wouldn't mind riding his motorcycle all the way to Washington, but he couldn't fit much in the way of baggage on it. And how many of those infernal radar sensors were there between N.C.Q. and D.C. anyway? How could he possibly be expected to heed the ridiculously slow speed limit when there was no traffic on long stretches of open road? It was baiting! They'd be impounding his motorcycle and revoking his license before he was halfway there.

If he left the motorcycle behind, what other options did he have? Flying was completely out of the question. Even with a sack lunch, he didn't like the idea one bit. He wasn't boarding a plane unless he had no other choice. So it was either the train, the bus, or renting a car. Car rental agencies would faint dead away if they saw his driving record. He had too many points against his license to rent. He was leaning toward the new solar/geothermic bullet train whose route ran parallel to old interstate 95. He'd have to hop a bus to Miami but he'd heard that the train was fast and comfortable. If he could get away from the docks without being swamped by too many reporters, he'd be in Washington by midnight.

He wondered uneasily whether he should try to dodge the reporters though. He was playing a tricky public relations game and kissing up to the media might pay off. He hated having to sell himself as a hero, especially when he hadn't done that much personally. He and his executive officer had decided, _together_, to set all of _seaQuest_'s missiles on a countdown to detonation. Brody had had more to do with the actual programming than he did. Nathan just armed the things. When his beautiful sub disappeared into the hull of that mothership, he had counted it for lost. The nuclear weapons were meant to prevent them from ever coming back, to deter them from ever stealing any other submarine or from abducting any humans. He never dreamed it would cause the Hyberions to change their minds, stop what they were doing, and give _seaQuest_ back.

But the media had made it out on all the news outlets like he'd masterminded the whole thing right down to the intended outcome. _Lucky._ That's what he was. _Damned lucky_. But setting the record straight to ease his conscience wouldn't help his chances at loosening purse strings in Washington. Heroic Super-Captain might have a chance; Humble Lucky Guy, probably not so much. He wouldn't lie to his superiors (or the media either, for that matter) but he wasn't going to go out of his way to change their perception either. If Major Allen broke an oath to try to save the world, he could smile and play into their hands for the same goal.

With reporters lurking outside in mind, he checked his reflection in one of the hatch windows as he passed. His khaki uniform was clean, his haircut from Devonport still holding, and he'd trimmed his beard that morning. Not state dinner perfection, but he didn't want to look perfect. He wanted to look professional, but hands-on; the man-in-charge who didn't hesitate to jump in the water himself. Too bad he couldn't get one of these reporters to conduct an interview on sea deck, while he wore a wetsuit and SCUBA gear. A wetsuit was less military and more than one woman had given him _that_ _look_ that confirmed he wore it well. Oh well, he was probably too old to pull off the sexy act anyway.

No sooner than the word 'sexy' crossed his mind, but he stepped into the bright Florida sun and who should be standing there like a dazzling definition of the word, but Dr. Kristin Westphalen. She smiled at him, cocking her head ever so slightly, her eyes practically screaming in that 'come hither' way. _Hang the reporters!_ He jumped over the two stairs that led down to the docks, dropped his duffel, and rushed into her open arms. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him just enough to whet his appetite, never quite overstepping the bounds of her solid British manners. He squeezed her tight around the waist and lifted her off the ground. She broke the kiss and giggled demurely. "God, Nathan, I've missed you!"

_You did?_ He felt his heart hammering in his chest. "I've missed you too. And don't think I'm not extremely glad to see you, but did Noyce put you up to this?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. I knew I had to see you as soon as I heard _seaQuest_ reappeared out of nowhere. I thought you were dead, Nathan. You died and I never told you how I felt or apologized for leaving you hanging. You deserved more than that."

"I could have kept in touch better myself," he admitted.

"All right, so we're both terrible at correspondence." She laid her face against his shoulder and gave him one last squeeze. Her hair smelled like the sea and he found it quite intoxicating. He placed a quick kiss to her head before she released him. Then, as if all their display of affection had used up some quota, she straightened and spoke in a rather formal tone: "Would you care to join me for dinner, Captain?"

He smiled. "I'd love to, Doctor. I've got a motorcycle on base with plenty of room for two. Shall we?"

Her eyes sparkled and her whole face lit up when she smiled. "How about we use it tomorrow, when you show me around? I've only just slept off my jet lag from London and I haven't seen much of New Cape Quest. Our dinner reservations are not the sort where I want to show up all windblown."

_Reservations?_ "Where are we going?"

She just smiled with that impish look in her eyes. "Somewhere no one can find us to interrupt this time. Where are you staying?" She probably meant for him to go drop off his duffel and possibly change out of his uniform.

"I was planning on going straight to Washington, but I think my plans just changed."

"Yes, I think so too. Why don't we just leave your things in my rental car for now?"

"Do I need to change for this secret dinner destination?"

"Not for dinner." She winked. "But maybe for dessert." She wrapped her arm around his elbow and led him, quite willingly, to her car.

He only belatedly looked around to see if he'd dodged reporters, but they'd either given up long ago, or none had dared to interrupt his meeting with the most gorgeous woman alive. He realized that he didn't even care if they got pictures and plastered them everywhere. If she came back to _seaQuest_, they'd have to be more discreet, but he was a navy officer on leave right now. Had he kept such a beauty at arm's length or merely given her a peck, people would doubt his sanity. _Couldn't have that_.

She opened the trunk, or as she called it, the "boot" and he dropped his duffel inside. She headed for the passenger side, while he stopped in his tracks. "Did you want me to drive or did you forget where the wheel was?" He pointed to the car's left side. The last time he drove something other than a submarine, it had been back in England, so he understood the slip, but it was still fun to rib her about it.

She peered inside the passenger window and then pretended she knew all along that the wheel wouldn't be there. "You know this town better than I do. You should drive." She tossed him the keys.

Nathan chuckled. "I don't know anything outside the base any better than you do, but I do know which side of the street to drive on."

She arched her brow, giving him a dangerous look for a second, but it melted into a smile. "As long as we get lost together, I don't care."

"Kristin, you're making it very hard for me to care about dinner, you know."

She flashed him her patented innocent look. "Am I?"

They got in the car and she punched up an address on the navigation computer, presumably leading to their dinner destination. As soon as he figured out where all the controls were and got out of the parking lot, Kristin spoke up in the blunt tone he loved in her. "All right, so tell me what I'm up against. How close are you to your new CMO, what's her name…Wendy?"

_Lucas._ The teen had kept in touch with Kristin and he'd passed on the rumors. His initial thought was to kill the kid at first opportunity, but once he took a deep breath, he decided it was better to just get it all out in the open. "I didn't want to admit to myself how much I missed you. We were in the hydroponics lab amidst a heady scent of flowers. I got lost in her eyes for a moment. Then she got a scare and ended up in my arms and someone on the crew saw it and started spreading rumors. I admit I was infatuated for a couple of days, but she wasn't attracted to me at all. She's half my age, Kristin. I dated her mother. Nothing happened. I never even kissed her. We _are_ very close now, but it's not romantic."

At this, she arched her brows and stared through him with a look that could melt iron. But she didn't speak; she waited.

"I respect her abilities, but it's more than that. When _seaQuest_ disappeared a couple of weeks ago, it wasn't an accident. The madman who sucked us back in time did it just so he could torture us. Wendy held my hands while I was whipped with a cat-o-nine-tails and she used her empathic abilities to keep me from bleeding to death. She did the same thing for Lucas and seven others of my bridge crew. Our captor drugged her to make it impossible for her to block our pain. She felt everything we did. Nine times she endured our whippings, Kristin. We owe her a lot and I won't go back to cold and impersonal to try to prove I'm no longer infatuated."

Kristin laid her hand on his shoulder and whispered, "It's all right, Nathan. I believe you."

He decided this was as good a time as any to drop the bombshell, so he drew a deep breath and plowed on. "She's stepping down from CMO and she is the one who suggested—no, she insisted—that I get you back. She'll be your assistant if you want her, but she wants to devote most of her time to psychology and parapsychology. Your areas of expertise don't overlap except for medicine and she's willing to give you all of that. Admiral Noyce is talking to your sponsors. Will you consider coming back to _seaQuest_?"

She sighed softly. "I wasn't going to tell you this, Nathan, but one of the reasons I came here was to feel you out on whether I had a chance at getting back on the science team. You had every right to find someone else after I left like that, but if you were involved with this pretty young thing, I couldn't do it. I'd be too jealous."

"Jealous?" He turned to look at her and almost ran the car into a sidewalk sunglasses vendor. She saw the imminent accident and gasped. He swerved and hit the brakes just in time. Catching his breath, he looked back at her.

"That's why I couldn't call. I couldn't look in your eyes and pretend I was fine. I knew if you saw me on vid-link, you'd see right through me." She looked away.

He swallowed. "You could have emailed." He chose a spot and pulled off the road. This demanded his full attention without endangering lives.

"And said what? I dropped everything to try to reconnect with my daughter. Everything was great while she was in the hospital. But when she got better, all we did was argue. She said I cared more about clams and sponges than people. I took a subsistence-wage position at a street clinic in the slums of Birmingham just to prove her wrong. But after three weeks, Cynthia just up and took off back to Brazil with only two hours notice."

Nathan cringed. "Ouch."

"Is that all you have to say? Ouch?" She gave him an indignant look, but he could see the pain in her eyes.

He reached over and took her hand. "Kristin, I know you care about people more than clams and sponges. Your work with marine ecosystems serves humanity a whole lot better than wasting your considerable skills on drug addicts and winos. If Cynthia wasn't so frustrated about little boys facing death squads for political expediency, she might see things more clearly."

Another heavy sigh. "She posted me an apology after a month, but like some masochistic fool doing penance, I kept working at that infernal clinic for close to a year before Joshua Levin found me and talked some sense back in me. I-I wasn't myself, Nathan. I was lost."

"I'll have to thank Levin then, for doing what I should have. I was too afraid you'd gone back to Malcolm to even ask what you were up to."

"Malcolm? Oh." She smiled a little. "I told him I'd never last a month at Caicos Key and then what did I do? I buried myself in a filthy inner-city for a year instead. Talk about hypocritical." She didn't turn her head, but he could see her trying to watch him from the corner of her eye. "Why were you afraid?"

"Because you were absolutely right the first time. I was jealous then and I'm even more jealous now."

"Hmm. We've both admitted to being jealous. What does that mean?" Slowly, she turned her head to face him and their eyes locked.

"It means I love you, Kristin. But I can't ask you to play second fiddle to a submarine, and I can't leave _seaQuest_. I'd lose myself just as surely as you got lost in the slums of Birmingham." He wanted to explain why _seaQuest_ was so important to the world and the future, but it would sound egotistical. No, he wouldn't make excuses for his decisions. He still _wanted_ to command _seaQuest_, even without all of Major Allen's dire warnings.

"Nathan, I would never ask you to leave _seaQuest_. I was ready to be someone's lab assistant to get back onboard, to be researching again, but also to be close to you. If you're offering me chief medical officer, I accept."

"And Head of Science. Wendy never had that job and I can't think of anyone more qualified than you."

"What about Levin?"

"Is he interested in coming back too?" Nathan grinned. "If you want to delegate that to him, it's fine by me."

"I'm not sure what he wants. He hinted around a bit, but I didn't even know if I could get myself back on, so I didn't ask. Nathan, I do need to know though. Can we be open about this…about _us_?"

"I tried to keep it a secret, but most everyone who was on the first tour has guessed it by now. I think it's my sad puppy-dog eyes. Admiral Noyce gave me his blessing with the proviso that we invite him and his wife to the wedding."

Her eyes widened. "Wedding?"

He chuckled. "I spit tea all over the mess hall when he said that to me. I'm not going to pressure you, Kristin. I can't propose marriage if I'm not willing to give up my command for us. You deserve better than that."

"Then what if I proposed _to you_, no strings attached? If I lose my funding again, I could be a good navy wife and wait for you, Nathan. Look at what we weathered so far: they built a new boat and you went on a full tour without so much as a vid-link call. And that didn't change our feelings, did it? I want you to stay on _seaQuest_ whether I can be there or not."

He wasn't going to answer hypothetical questions. "_Are_ you proposing?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes." She placed her hand on his cheek and spoke deliberately. "Nathan Bridger, will you marry me?"

He thought about it for no more than two seconds. "Yes." And then he just watched her, gazing into her soft brown eyes.

She giggled and her cheeks blushed pink. "Don't just stare at me, Nathan. Kiss me!"

He didn't hesitate to carry out her "orders".

* * *

**A/N: I know it doesn't look like it, but I really AM aware that I'm writing for "seaQuest_"_ and not "The Love Boat". You cannot convince me after Higher Power that something like this wasn't in the making for Kristin and Nathan. And yes, there are going to be a few more pairings before I'm done. I believe that the mother of Brody's son would have told him if she had the chance and now she is getting that chance. She won't be coming on _seaQuest_, but I think Brody will come back from leave with a ring on his finger. Anyway, if you get squeamish about romance, you may just want to stop reading because I do have some planned. Fair warning right now. With the exception of Tim, all of the relationships I have planned were shown outright or heavily hinted about in canon. I think Tim's can be justified based on the Kimura incident. He's obviously looking for someone and doesn't mind conducting a relationship through long-distance means (internex or telepathy). Not sure where it's going with Mary though. Hope everyone enjoyed the Nathan/Kristin reunion.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Nathan managed to get the car to the restaurant without anymore near-misses. The restaurant turned out to be a small mom-and-pop place that looked like a run-down shack from the outside. Kristin apologized profusely, saying that someone else had recommended it. They decided to look in anyway and found that the interior décor, while meager, was clean and uncluttered. It was soon apparent why no one cared about the any of this: the unassuming structure was nestled on a hill and had a spectacular view of a secluded beach and the entire Atlantic, stretched out as far as the eye could see. A semi-circular window molded in just four pieces swept around a good two-thirds of the place. And it was serenely quiet.

If the food was half as good as the atmosphere, they'd be fine. "This was your idea. What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I'm game if you are."

"Let's take it."

Kristin smiled at the hostess. "Bridger, party of two, please."

How long had she been planning to propose to him? "You're pretty comfortable already calling yourself Bridger."

She chuckled. "Nonsense. I don't think I'll take your name even when we're married. I just used it so they'd save us the best table. You're rather the celebrity, you know." She slipped him a sly wink.

It appeared her strategy worked, although there really weren't any bad tables in the place, from what he could see. If it had been closed and he could have chosen any table he wanted, it would have been the one she led them to. Best of all, there were no hologram generators, no vid-links, PALs, or cell phones. At least _he_ hadn't brought any in with him. He didn't think Kristin would have brought one in either. And no one else knew they were here.

Nathan sat back in the luxuriously padded chair, sighing with satisfaction. The décor might have been cheap, but they'd spared no expense on comfort. The table setting was simple but elegant, with fresh local flowers and candles in old-fashioned lanterns. The menu was mostly seafood. After they ordered, the first story he told Kristin was how Darwin became acting captain and had the entire crew eating nothing but fish for two months.

"I've missed Darwin. How is he?"

"He's fine. I have Petty Officer Piccolo looking out for him while we're all on leave."

She nodded. "Ah yes. Lucas's roommate."

"Just don't judge him on anything Lucas said more than six months ago. None of us expected him to turn out as well as he has, myself included."

"Lucas said something about gills. How similar are they to the ones Dr. Wise used in Mika?"

It took Nathan a moment to remember who Mika was. He shrugged. "I'm not sure anyone has compared them. Did you leave any records behind?" It was possible Wendy had found Kristin's records and studied the similarities without ever mentioning it.

She shook her head. "If you'll remember correctly, we were more concerned with Jonathan almost drowning than snooping around her gills. She wasn't having any problems, so I didn't examine her. However, I believe she's been studying at Woods Hole. I should contact her about coming aboard for a short fellowship."

Nathan nodded and smiled. It was so good to hear _seaQuest_ discussed in terms of research again. He asked Kristin several times about what she'd been doing while they were apart, but it sounded like a long, boring stint in a very depressing place. She didn't want to talk about her street clinic job and she insisted that she hadn't really done anything outside of work because she'd been constantly exhausted. He mentally kicked himself for not having the guts to check up on her sooner. But who would have ever guessed that the formidable Kristin Westphalen needed checking on?

Kristin, however, drank up as many details as he would supply about what she'd missed on _seaQuest_. For most of the second tour's events, he just gave her the highlights, but when it came to If and Major Allen, he spilled it all. He even told her about the haunting recording of his older self. He wasn't going to hide a thing like that from her, especially when Wendy already knew. Kristin would also need to understand why he was so passionate about lobbying for another _seaQuest_-class submarine.

"Is that why you were headed for Washington today?"

"Yes. But I don't think a week is going to matter. It's not like I have an appointment."

"No, but you're a hot commodity right now, Nathan. You want to strike while the iron is hot. Forget sightseeing. We can do that another time. Let's get you in front of those tight-arsed pencil-pushers straightaway."

He laughed. "Will you come with me? I mean just to Washington. You don't have to do any lobbying."

She beamed. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

"By the way, when are we getting married?" He liked the way that rolled off his tongue.

"Oh, I don't know. Why, you having second thoughts?"

He shook his head. "No, but if we tell anyone, that's the first question they'll ask. Besides, _you_ may not have aged a day in the last two years, but I sure did. I'm not getting any younger."

Her brows raised. "I have no reason to wait either. I suppose what we should be asking is whom do we want to invite and where should we hold the ceremony?"

"I'm committed to inviting Admiral Noyce and his wife. And I want Lucas to be my best man. Beyond that, I'll invite my officers, a select few of the bridge crew, and Wendy, but I won't make plans around them. What about you?"

Kristin rolled her eyes. "I don't think my daughters would come, but I suppose I should invite them. Would you mind if Malcolm gave away the bride?"

Nathan inclined his head a bit. "I couldn't do it for him if he'd won, but if he's willing, I don't mind." He was a good friend, but Nathan wasn't going to use their friendship as an occasion to gloat.

"Won? What am I, some lottery prize?" She tried hard to look indignant, but her smile was too big.

"Last I heard, they didn't give away priceless treasures at lotteries."

She laughed. "Good answer. And that brings us to the ceremony. Church, civil, or maritime?"

"You realize navy captains aren't allowed to marry people, right?"

She allowed her lower lip to protrude ever so slightly, suggesting, but not quite defining a pout. "Oh no? What about admirals?"

He laughed. "No, not even admirals. But that doesn't mean we couldn't marry at sea with a chaplain presiding."

"But then we'd have to wait for _seaQuest _to get out of dry dock."

The more they talked, the less Nathan found himself willing to wait. And while _seaQuest_ was his home, it was a little too large and busy for a quiet wedding. Then he got an idea. "Not necessarily. How about a wedding cruise on the lovely trimaran, _skyQuest_?"

She grinned. "As long as we don't go anywhere near the Bermuda Triangle."

He shook his head. "We don't have to leave the harbor. By the way, you should have seen Jonathan tying knots like a pro. He told me that you taught him. It came in handy. But I have quite a few more qualified knot-tiers on my crew now."

"Well, then let's not waste them just touring the harbor. Why don't we sail down to your island?"

"Our island." This was sounding better by the second. "Do you have a PDA with you? I want to email Kendall."

"He just went on leave, Nathan!" Still, she rummaged inside her purse to find the device.

"I know. But if you could see how he babies that boat, you'd understand. He'd be hurt if I _didn't_ ask him."

Amusement danced in her brown eyes as she looked up from her digging to answer. "Like _you_ baby _seaQuest_?"

He smirked. "Something like that. But he and the engineering crew are the only ones who know how to put it together. It's like a giant jigsaw puzzle."

She handed over a wafer-thin computer the size of an old-fashioned checkbook. "We're sailing a jigsaw puzzle to our honeymoon?"

"No, we're sailing a trimaran, if I can get someone to put it together for us." He set her PDA down on the table and turned it on. He didn't know any of his crew's vid-link numbers, but all crew email was the same as his except for the first initial and last name. And no one had to be aboard _seaQuest_ to access their accounts.

He typed in his password and quickly composed a message to Kendall. Nathan would go remove all the parts and get them stored somewhere on base, but Kendall would need to assemble the parts at some time that was convenient to him. Nathan promised to get all the proper permissions so he had a slip for the finished boat. He very casually mentioned what time he was going to go get the parts, just in case Kendall wanted to come. He was willing to bet that if the man was still in the area, he'd be there.

He sent the mail and then noticed a single message in his inbox. It was only a few hours old. He whispered, "Lucas."

"Hmm?"

"I've got an email from Lucas." He looked up at her for a reaction.

Kristin shuddered.

"I won't open it until tomorrow."

"No. I wasn't thinking about our last dinner. We've been done eating for over an hour now."

"Has it really been that long?" Their empty plates had long since been removed and the bottle of wine they'd started was almost empty. They'd been so engrossed in each other and catching up, that the time had flown by.

She nodded. "He was careful not to disturb us, Nathan. I saw him back at the docks, before you came out. I met his mother." She shook her head and scowled. "I'm worried about him. If you don't open that mail, I'm going track down his mother's vid-link and call him myself."

He wouldn't put it past Kristin to carry out her threat. And Lucas had contacted him in the least disruptive way possible, even though Nathan had given him his cell number. Of course, he might have tried that and left a message. The cell phone was still uncharged, in his duffel. He couldn't just ignore it now anyway. He sighed and opened the mail. It was carbon copied to six others with seaquest-dot-mil addresses besides his, plus a couple of addresses that obviously belonged to crew members who preferred to use private carriers. Really, who else could be gilledstud at yahoo dot com? Or mortiz at hotlatinosingles dot cu?

He suppressed a chuckle at their predictability. He saw one address he didn't immediately recognize but he had a pretty good guess. He read it out loud to confirm: "LadyPiraha at cambridge dot org?"

Kristin looked up with recognition. "I told Lucas to email me, but I didn't think it would be this soon."

"Looks like he carbon copied half the bridge personnel." He scrolled down and started reading. "Hi guys. Sorry to bother you so soon. My mom says she's gotta fly to Paris in 48 hours. New record for her. Dad said he might be in the states for Christmas, but that's three months away. So who wants me first? Lucas."

"Forty-eight hours!" Kristin's voice was so loud it startled the few patrons still left in the restaurant. She lowered her volume, but not the acid tone. "Keep me away from that woman or I might break my Hippocratic Oath!"

"So, do you want to wait and see who else might offer or would you like someone to keep you company while I'm in finance committee meetings?"

Her eyes lit up. "Nathan, that's brilliant. He and I can tour all the museums and landmarks together and he'll still get to spend time with you when you're not busy. Has anyone else answered?"

He shook his head. "No way to know if they did it privately."

"Don't wait. Don't let him get the feeling that we're all hoping someone else will take him."

"No, it seems he gets enough of that from his parents. I was only thinking that if he stayed with someone with a family, he might get to do more normal kid things: play basketball, go to movies, and scope out the girls at the local mall—things he can't do on a submarine."

"Aren't all the girls his age in school at this time of year?"

He sighed. "You've got a point there."

"He's not a 'normal kid', Nathan. He plays basketball with a talking dolphin and he watches plenty of movies. Besides, we can all still go to the cinema if the mood strikes, no? Just leave it up to him and watch how fast he pounces. I bet he doesn't even wait to see what other offers he'll get."

Nathan started typing:

**Dear Lucas, ****Would you like to join Dr. Westphalen and me in Washington? We're going to be in New Cape Quest a few days anyway, so it's no problem to pick you up. Don't feel obligated if you get a better offer, but we would both really love to have you. The quarters will probably be terrible, but better than _skyQuest_.**

He hesitated, debating whether to ask him about being his best man and telling him about the wedding, but he decided that could wait. If Kristin was right, he'd do a reply-all answer and tell everyone at the same time.

**Sorry about your parents. You know how to get in touch if you need to talk. ****Love you, kiddo, Captain Bridger.**

He read it over and then clicked on send. He sighed and looked up at his lovely date. "Where were we?"

"You were plotting how to get your puzzle sailboat out of _seaQuest_ before they put her in dry dock."

"I can unload everything by myself if I have to, but there'll be plenty of sailors I can press into service. She's on a naval base. It'll be a piece of cake."

"Speaking of cake, did you want dessert?"

"I couldn't eat another bite."

"Who said anything about food? I'm staying at a quaint little bed and breakfast. Why don't you come back there with me? It's got a king-sized bed."

Hmm. Some squeaky cot in the barracks on base, probably with a roomful of snoring, flatulent men, or a king-sized bed with the woman he loved?_ No contest._ "Sounds like you've thought of everything." She smiled and motioned the waitress for the check. He looked down at the PDA, planning to close out his email when he saw an answer from Lucas. "Well, you won _that_ bet. He's answered."

"What did he say?"

He opened the letter and scanned it quickly. Kristin wasn't copied on his reply, so he wanted to make sure it was safe to share.

**Dear Captain Bridger, ****Miguel and Tony both said I could come stay with them, but I'd rather stay with you and Dr. Westphalen if it's really all right with you and with her too. I don't want to be in the way. I just don't want to be alone. If you still want me, Mom's driver can drop me off anywhere you want. Just name the time and place. ****I love you too. ****Lucas**

Nathan found himself getting misty-eyed. Rather than try to read it and possibly choking up, he just handed Kristin the PDA.

She looked down at the screen. "Well, of course we want him! We wouldn't have offered if we didn't mean it. Do you mind if I send him a reply just from me? You can answer next." She pulled up her own mail program over his.

He chuckled. "It doesn't look like you'll let me have the PDA back until you do. But it's fine. He should know I'm not pressuring you into this."

Nathan took care of the check while Kristin typed. She wrote a rather lengthy letter while he gazed out on the moonlit Atlantic. He didn't understand why Lucas's parents professed to love him and yet acted so contrary to that profession. If Lucas wasn't so close to turning eighteen, he might have tried harder to talk to them, to mend the parental bonds before it was too late. But at this point, he questioned whether it was worth the effort. He felt guilty because he was _happy_ that Lucas was going to get to spend all this time with him and Kristin. How could he not be elated that Lucas had chosen two old fogeys stuck in cramped quarters in Washington over much younger, hip dudes who'd invited him to Cuba and Florida? If he waited another day for replies, he'd probably have invitations all over the globe!

"Nathan?"

Shaking his head of cobwebs, he blinked. "Hmm?" He hadn't noticed she'd finished typing and set the PDA in front of him.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm glad they're dumping him, Kristin. What does that say about me?"

She scoffed. "It says that you really do love the boy and aren't just agreeing to babysit him because of some misplaced sense of duty. Just because his parents act like he's a burden, doesn't mean he is."

"I _did_ think of it as babysitting at one time."

"So did I. But he's grown on us. You shouldn't feel guilty because you're excited about spending time with him. You _are_ excited, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"He'll probably get on both of our nerves, but never forget, I wanted him with us too."

"And we still have two nights at your bed-and-breakfast before we have to change gears."

"Yes, so get your emails sent so we can get to it!" Smiling broadly, she winked at him.

Lucas's mail was still open, so he hit reply.

**Yes, it's all right. I don't want Dr. Westphalen to be alone when I'm stuck in meetings and when I'm not, we can all do things together. I'm looking forward to it. By the way, Kristin and I are getting married. Will you be my best man? Read the next mail for my plans. I won't be checking my mail again tonight. My phone should be charged by tomorrow. See you soon. ****Captain Bridger**

He mailed it off and then opened the original mass mail that Lucas first sent out and hit 'reply-all' to that one.

**Lucas will be staying with Dr. Westphalen and me for a while. Sometime before the new tour starts, the good doctor and I will be getting married. All of you will be invited. No date set yet. Anyone still in New Cape Quest that would like to help unload _skyQuest_ modules off of _seaQuest_, I need to do that Wednesday morning, before they move her to dry dock. We'll be using the trimaran for the wedding. Miguel, we can pick you up in Cuba on the way. Reception will be on Bridger's Island. More details later. Hope everyone is having a restful leave. ****Regards, Nathan Bridger**

He read it over and then added: **P.S. Be nice with any with public replies. LadyPiranha is my fiancée.**

He sent it and turned the PDA back off. "Where were we again?"

Kristin stood, grabbed his elbow, and pulled him up. "Dessert."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Lucas read his emails over and over, smiling and enjoying the cozy feeling inside. Dr. Westphalen and Captain Bridger were getting married and the captain wanted _him_ to be the best man. And even though the two older adults had hardly seen each other in almost two years, they both told him independently that they actually _wanted_ him with them. The doctor suggested renting bicycles and touring all the sights in Washington for as long as weather permitted. If it rained, they could spend weeks just in the Smithsonian.

Lucas had been to Washington D.C. as a child, but he'd been too young to appreciate it. He had fragments of memories with his nanny and a playground at a hotel, but he couldn't remember anything of his parents or the city itself. Tony's and Miguel's invitations were enticing, yes, but not as much as this. While his friends would no doubt include him in all their activities and be exceedingly gracious and generous, Lucas could never shake the feeling that he would be a _guest_ in their homes. With the doctor and the captain, he was _family_. None of them had to call it that and Lucas was certainly too old to be adopted, but he could be himself and he knew they truly loved him for who he was.

He couldn't think of anything anyone else could offer that could trump this, so he didn't hesitate to accept their invitation and the honor of being the best man. How totally cool was that? Captain Bridger could have had Admiral Noyce and Lucas would never have thought a thing of it. No one would have ever suggested he choose Lucas instead, not even the doctor. Lucas _knew_ that the captain had come up with the idea all on his own and that it wasn't just some token gesture.

The teen fired off quick replies to the doctor and the captain and then joined the discussion with the rest of the guys who'd been in on the big announcement. They all sent congratulations with the captain and doctor copied, but then they all started plotting amongst themselves without them. What kind of wedding gift could you get these two? They lived on a submarine with zero storage space. They didn't need the standard housewares like blenders or china. After many stupid suggestions and just as many virtual head-smacks shared between them all, they charged Lucas with spying on the couple with an eye to discovering the perfect gift.

Much as Lucas would have liked going back to _seaQuest_ the next morning to help with _skyQuest_, he didn't dare suggest it to his mother. They'd had a pretty big fight when Lucas had complained about his tiny allotment of time and tried to insist Mom take him with her to Paris. They ended up yelling at each other in French, which Lucas had initiated to prove he could handle himself when she wasn't with him. He'd lost the fight, of course. It probably hadn't been a good idea to repeat some of those insults he'd heard Tim use on Beauregard. He'd figured if _he_ didn't know what they meant, Mom probably didn't either. In retrospect, that didn't seem such a sound assumption.

After complaining that they never had enough time together, he couldn't very well skip out on her just to go unload sailboat parts. His point was, and would continue to be, that _she_ was the one who didn't make time for him. So he would pass by the chance to see his friends and spend the morning with her instead.

He closed down the near-antique computer. Bringing it had already produced the desired effect. Mom was taking him to the electronics store after lunch tomorrow. He drooled with anticipation just thinking about it. He would have forgone the computer completely if it meant more time with her, but since that wasn't going to happen, he'd be thankful for what he did get. He wondered whether their big fight would make her more lavish or more frugal. It really depended on whether she realized, deep down, that he was right. He really wasn't out to soak her. He could wait for his birthday or Christmas, or he could save up for it himself if he had to.

Lucas made up the couch and put a movie channel on. If he could have figured out a way to sleep on the floor in his mother's room without her asking a bunch of questions, he would rather have done that, but she was in the same apartment and he'd have some noise from the television. After all, he wouldn't be in the same room with Dr. Westphalen and Captain Bridger either. He certainly didn't want to disturb _them_.

He didn't sleep very well, but he wasn't sure why. The noise was a little annoying. The couch was a bit uncomfortable, and he had some nightmares, though not especially bad ones. At least he got some sleep and didn't feel exhausted. Mom took him to breakfast and then clothes shopping. Lucas passed on all the baseball jerseys and oversized plaid shirts. He figured he had enough of those already. He had revised his ideas on dressing while wasting away in prison and had plans to change his practices for the next tour.

There was a _seaQuest_ science uniform and every other civilian wore it but Lucas and Dr. Smith. And she wore a lab coat most of the time. Dr. Westphalen had worn the uniform _and_ a lab coat back when she was aboard. If he wanted to be treated the same as the other adults, then it was only fair that he act and dress professionally as they all did. Captain Bridger had once said he didn't like him on the bridge out of uniform. True, it was while he was cursed and not in his right mind. He might not really care about Lucas wearing a uniform any more than he wanted Miguel shot on sight. Then again, it might be one of those things he secretly wanted, but just didn't feel he could ask of a civilian kid. But Lucas _was_ part of the science team and he had a right to wear it. Even if the captain wasn't secretly wishing for it, he certainly wouldn't mind.

So while Mom was in the clothes-buying mood, he steered her toward some nice, stylish attire he could wear if he ever got another date with Juliana or something more suitable for addressing world leaders if he ever got yanked into a summit meeting at the last minute. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear to the captain's wedding. He'd said it was going to be on _skyQuest_. If they were all crewing, they couldn't very well do that in tuxedoes. He had his mom buy a cool necktie just in case. His snappy date shirt would work well for the wedding, if need be. She didn't spend any more money than she usually did on his annual clothing spree, but since she bought fewer pieces this time, what she bought was of much higher quality.

Lucas got a new pair of athletic shoes and some nice suede loafers along with the normal supply of socks and underwear. Mom didn't even look when he picked out the latter. She just said to "get whatever you need," so he did. They finished all their clothes shopping by lunchtime and then went to some swanky restaurant. Lucas wasn't too thrilled with it, but he didn't think it was worth another fight. He found something edible on the menu and kept his mouth shut.

Mom then laid into him about his plans for the future. The topic of his elusive PhD came up, as expected, but he was able to mention some vague details about the whale song research and let her assume that meant he was applying himself toward the doctorate. She was suitably impressed by his publication in the science journal, so that bought him a lot of leeway he hadn't had in previous incarnations of this same discussion. He was glad when they finally left for the electronics store.

When they first walked in, he asked, "How much do you want to spend?"

"What do you _need_?" she retorted.

"Define 'need.'" Was electronic entertainment a 'need' when one was stuck in a tiny tin can, unable to escape? True, he would be 18 before the next tour started and he could choose not to join again, but was she going to support any other choice any better? She had been the one to offer. She'd better not be backing down.

A store employee approached them and intervened before another argument started. "What can I do for you?" he asked cheerily.

"I need a portable computer," Lucas said.

"And what will you be using it for?"

"You name it. Systems analysis. Hacking. Gaming. Disseminating viral video. You know, the usual." Lucas knew that the guy would discount what he said and assume him an amateur. He'd try to sell him something with a lot of bells and whistles, which was just fine by Lucas. By the time he had them take all the frivolous junk off, upgrade the RAM and give him the fastest processor, he'd end up spending just as much, but getting a lot more bang for Mom's buck. And because he seemed to take off more 'stuff' than he added on, she would interpret that as being considerate of her budget.

"You're joking."

"I work with a very complex computer and sometimes I need something completely separate to run tests and bypass certain subsystems." He didn't mention that he usually had UEO-issued portable computers at his disposal to accomplish some of these tasks. He liked to keep his personal computer souped-up to his own specs and configured his own way, and sometimes it was just easier to use his own familiar tools than one of the UEO's clunkers.

The tech-store guy was at least five years older than Lucas. He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing his story, but unwilling to argue with such a potentially lucrative customer.

Under other circumstances, Lucas might have bragged about being on _seaQuest _or being the one to distribute that alien video, but he wasn't in the mood. He just rattled off a set of specifications. This earned him a raised brow and what was probably the beginning of belief.

Mom left them to talk tech and headed to the vid-link area of the store.

The guy leaned in for a whisper once Mom was out of earshot. "Are you really going to buy a unit like that, or are you just trying to impress me?"

Lucas chuckled. "If you have what I want and won't stiff me for anything I can easily add myself, my mom will pay for it." The guy just stared. Lucas added, "Bad divorce." That one phrase explained everything and made the guy grin.

"You really know computers? You weren't just yanking my chain?"

Lucas shrugged. "Yeah, I know computers."

"Would you take a look at something? Some kid got under the cabinet and messed up all our floor models." The salesman indicated the desktop showcase area where several employees were gathered, talking, pointing, and shaking their heads a lot.

Lucas looked back at the salesman. "Will they let me in there?"

The salesman raised his voice to his associates: "I've got someone who might be able to help. Give him some room." The others grumbled their doubt and gave Lucas disparaging looks, but they backed off. Lucas suppressed a sigh. He was on vacation and he was a customer. He shouldn't have to work. But his pride wouldn't let him back out. He'd fix their stuff just to prove he could do it.

Funny thing, it wasn't even that hard. The system was much less complex than _seaQuest_ and it hadn't been hit by lightning or a torpedo or anything remotely destructive. Just a few wires pulled out. Lucas had it straightened out and running perfectly in fifteen minutes. The other employees applauded him, shaking their heads in wonder. "I don't suppose you need a job?" the salesman asked.

"Naw. I'm good."

"You just saved us a lot of embarrassment, not to mention an expensive service call. I'll give you anything you want at the employee discount."

Lucas grinned. "Very cool."

He got everything he was hoping for and then some, and the guy even let Mom have her new vid-link at discount too. She'd become a little impatient when she saw Lucas tinkering rather than haggling about the sale. But everyone seemed happy when they did the final ring-up. Lucas could hardly wait to get home and play with his new toy. He set up Mom's new vid-link first because it was just easier to do it from the start rather than fix it after she tried. Plus, helping her first had the added advantage of making Mom happy, so she was less likely to interrupt him when he started playing.

Just before he dove in deep, he checked his email. He had dozens of mails from all his friends, and one from the captain. He opened that one first.

**Dear Lucas, **

**Your first job as my best man is to help me find an engagement/wedding ring. Number one priority: make sure it is from a reputable jeweler that abides by the Environmental Mining Association guidelines. Their seal on the outside of the box is just as important as the ring on the inside. Also, it can't have any faceted stones or prong mounts because she's constantly using latex gloves. A smooth design with inlaid mother-of-pearl or some other renewable ocean resource is good, but absolutely NO coral! She'd probably call off the wedding if I tried to give her anything that contributed to destruction of the reefs, even if the EMA sanctioned it.**

**I know this is a lot of restrictions, but that's why I put **_**you**_** on the job. Find me a couple dozen styles to choose from. I'll make the final decision and place the order. Oh, and keep it a secret. No one besides you and me should see it before Dr. Westphalen.**

**We got **_**skyQuest**_** out of the hold. Kendall, O'Neill, Dagwood, and Piccolo are helping me put her together tomorrow. We're leaving for Washington as soon as you're ready, but don't short-change your mother. You got a brief enough visit as it is. Let me know when to pick you up. **

**Capt. Bridger**

Lucas wrote a quick reply, accepting the challenge of finding the perfect ring for Dr. Westphalen. He read the other mails and zipped off a few short answers before he started configuring the computer to his personal preferences. He'd been planning on checking the gaming hang-outs for Wolfman, but he decided to get started on the ring hunt instead. He didn't think he could accomplish the whole search in one night, but he wanted to have something when he saw the captain again.

He'd seen the way Captain Bridger talked about his first wife, seen how hard it was for him to break a promise to her, even though she was gone and everything had changed. If anyone deserved the chance to find happiness like that twice in one lifetime, it had to be him. Lucas would have given this ring search his best just for the captain, but how much more did he want to succeed when he knew and loved Dr. Westphalen too?

However, it wasn't easy. Lucas could find gold and platinum rings that met the mining restrictions, but they all had diamonds or other prong-set stones that disqualified them from slipping in and out of those gloves all the time. Oddly, there didn't seem to be any plain bands made with just approved metals. Not that Lucas could imagine Captain Bridger wanting to buy something like that anyway. It had to be something exotic and unusual, yet understated. That was why the material origin was so important. She would understand how much thought and care went into this and that would mean more to her than precious metals or silly rocks.

When Lucas saw what a premium they were charging for that seal the captain said was so important, he coughed. He could just imagine Ben Kreig buying a gorgeous ring on the black market somewhere and then getting the box from eBay. Lucas wouldn't insult the captain by even suggesting such a thing. Dr. Westphalen would probably rather not have a ring at all than be duped like that.

So the challenge was to find a jeweler who used EMA-approved metal, but produced unconventional designs, probably originals. And if Lucas was going to find this unconventional jeweler, he would have to have enough 'stock' designs that it would make sense to photograph them and put them on a website. Custom was another option, but probably not in the captain's budget. If he found any good custom jewelers, he'd throw them in with the other choices and let the captain decide. Lucas knew Navy guys didn't make much money, but then again, Captain Bridger owned an _island_. The teen wasn't one to pry into personal finances, but he wasn't stupid enough to assume the captain was a beggar either.

Well into the night, Lucas searched. He was glad he had a faster computer now. The images loaded and unloaded almost as fast as he could get a good enough look to make a decision and either save or move on. He got really excited at one point, until he noticed that the jeweler he'd found was from the Amazonian Confederation. Captain Bridger might be able to forgive them for what they did to Tony, but he doubted Dr. Westphalen would feel as charitable given what happened to her daughter and all those young boys they rescued. Nope. Not a chance she'd want so much as a coin purse made from Amazonian leather.

Lucas didn't notice when the sun came up and daylight filtered in through the windows. So when Mom's door squeaked open, it gave him a start.

"Didn't you ever go to bed?"

He shrugged. "I was having too much fun with my new toy. It's really cool, Mom. Thanks again."

"But what were you _doing_? Playing games all night?"

He opened his mouth, intending to lash out at her for assuming he couldn't have been doing anything important, but before some acid remark passed his lips, he bit his tongue. He was the one who'd said 'fun' and called the computer a 'toy'. Why wouldn't she assume he was playing games? He managed to tone down his retort to merely snarky. "No, if you must know, I was looking for an engagement ring."

That got her attention. She froze and her jaw dropped. "What?"

The look on her stunned face was so priceless that Lucas was having a hard time keeping from cracking a smile. "For Dr. Westphalen." He knew that would only shock his mother more, but he was enjoying it. Was he still hugging the doctor when his mom found them on the docks? He hoped so.

"L-Lucas, she's…"

"Brilliant and beautiful. I know."

"But you're so young and she's so…"

"I know how old she is. I don't care." He watched her for just a few more seconds. She was too stunned for words, so he let her off the hook. "Mom, I'm _not_ the groom; I'm the best man." The relief on his mother's face was so epic that Lucas couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Gotcha!"

She grabbed the nearest throw pillow and lobbed it at his head.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It warmed Nathan's heart when he saw how delighted Kristin was to see _skyQuest_ all assembled. She wanted to take the trimaran out right then. However, they didn't have enough people to crew her properly and Kristin reluctantly admitted that any attempt at sailing would delay their important trip to Washington. If they were successful with the lobbying, they could come back and go sailing later. Nathan got _skyQuest_ a slip in the naval shipyard and left her there, much to the chagrin of Chief Kendall. The chief would probably keep her in his own backyard if given the chance.

"You and I are the only ones authorized to take her out right now, Chief. If you find a crew, please feel free. She's yours more than anyone else's."

"I already signed up for that sailing mastery course you suggested, sir. I won't take her out before I pass, but I'm looking forward to the wedding cruise."

Nathan had asked Kendall to act as sailboat captain so that he could concentrate on the ceremony and spending time with his bride. Kendall was already well-qualified, but if he was taking that sailing course, he'd be even better. "You let me know if you have any conflicts I need to work around."

"I can't imagine anything so important it couldn't be changed."

They shook hands and parted. The chief was staying in navy housing in New Cape Quest. Nathan knew without asking that Kendall would look in on _skyQuest_ from time to time. Heck, he probably would go snooping around dry dock at _seaQuest_ too. Nathan would do the same if he was staying. He sighed heavily. It would be a lot more fun to rustle up some crew and take _skyQuest_ out, sail down to the island, and spend his leave fishing and lying in the sun with Kristin and Lucas. But it would be selfish. The UEO needed another _seaQuest_-class submarine and Nathan was the only person who had half a chance at making them see the need.

Mrs. Wolenczak's driver was not available, having taken Lucas's mother to the airport. If Nathan had wanted to wait, Lucas would be delivered right to the bed-and-breakfast, but he didn't like the idea of Lucas being alone right now. Besides, the rental car came with unlimited mileage. Kristin had all but abdicated the driver's seat, being much more interested in gawking at the Florida landscape than concentrating on "driving backwards", as she called it. So they checked out of the bed-and-breakfast and went to pick up the teen genius at his mother's apartment.

Nathan had never been to the very upscale suburb of New Cape Quest. He was stopped by security guards at an iron gate which surrounded the apartment complex. "I'm here to pick up Lucas Wolenczak," he said courteously.

The guard frowned and shook his head.

"His mother's name is Tellerman," Kristin added from the passenger seat.

"First name?" the guard questioned, eyeing them suspiciously.

Nathan hadn't even known she didn't go by Wolenczak. He looked over at the passenger's seat.

Kristin shrugged and muttered, "_Mizz_."

"It's number 307," Nathan said, trying hard not to get impatient. "Call them if you don't believe me."

Another guard in the booth nodded to the gate guard. "Tellerman in 307 checks out. Let him in."

Nathan said thanks more out of habit than feeling. They found the unit without much trouble and Kristin ran to the door. She didn't even have to knock before Lucas opened it and rushed into her open arms. They hugged for a second and then Kristin spoke.

"Why didn't you go to the airport to see your mum off?"

He sighed. "I think she was afraid I'd make a scene at the airport. She knew I was mad at her, so she said her goodbyes here."

Kristin scoffed. "Yes, heaven forbid you should get choked up over saying goodbye."

Lucas shrugged resignedly. "Doesn't matter now." He encompassed the captain in his gaze. "You guys wanna come in? Mom kinda stocked up on snacks because she expected I'd stay here after she left."

"You didn't tell her you were coming with me?"

He smirked. "Yes, I told her. But she went food shopping before _seaQuest_ got here. Don't worry; she's cool with me leaving."

Nathan saw his fiancée bite her lips to keep from saying something. He had some remarks too, but Lucas didn't need to hear them. "Thanks for the invitation, but we need to hit the road."

"How are we getting to Washington?"

"We were going to ask you what you thought. Dr. Westphalen has a rental car and we could all take turns driving as long as someone watches _her_" he crooked his thumb over at Kristin "to make sure she stays on the right side of the road."

She flashed him a mock-dangerous smirk. "You should talk, Mr. Speed Demon."

Lucas smiled at their banter. "And the other choice?"

"Turn in the car and take the bullet train."

The teen shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me."

"Then I say we take the train," Kristin said. "Lucas and I can catch up while you get your speeches ready."

"Speeches? I was going to wing it."

She rolled her eyes at him. He had been serious, but her assuming it a joke made him re-evaluate the idea. Bill had pointed out that his 'I know the future' argument had been rather flimsy. He was going to have to give politicians reasons that didn't require so much trust, reasons that their greedy little minds could comprehend and appreciate. He was going to need statistics.

"The train it is then." He looked back at Lucas. "Where's your gear?"

"Just inside the door. I'll get it." He ducked inside and emerged with his _seaQuest_-issued duffel, a suit hanger bag, and what appeared to be a new portable computer.

Nathan took the duffel and nodded at the device. "New toy?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. Mine was pretty old."

"And your mother has a lot of guilt to atone for," he observed.

Lucas shrugged.

"Which is not _your_ fault," Kristin said to Lucas, turning to give Nathan that 'back-me-up' arched brow.

Nathan nodded. He hadn't meant to accuse Lucas of manipulation. Who was he to talk when he had every intention of manipulating Congress? "No, it's not. Do you mind if I borrow it when we're on the train? The good doctor has just pointed out that I better get armed with facts before I go spouting off to senators."

"Sure, no problem," Lucas said easily.

God, he loved that kid.

Lucas locked the apartment door and followed them to the car. "Can I drive to the train station?"

Kristin had already indicated she was planning to catch up with him on the train, so perhaps he was just trying to give Nathan a little time with her before he was sent to study for his speeches. Or maybe Lucas just never got much of a chance to drive anything besides the _Stinger_. "Okay. Just don't get Dr. Westphalen deported for wrecking her rental." He tossed the keys.

The teen laughed. "I can kill us all as long as I don't get her deported?"

"Statistically, it's the front seat that's dangerous," Kristin said in her best scientific lecture voice. "The captain and I will both be safe in the back."

"What? No one will sit up front with me?" Lucas said in a mock-pout.

"No," Nathan and Kristin chorused together. He didn't worry for a second that the kid might be offended.

Neither of them felt the need to do anything but talk and hold hands, even with Lucas's attention on the road. They'd only discussed being very discreet when Nathan was in uniform in public or when they were back on _seaQuest_. But Kristin had been in complete agreement about that and he had no doubt she would speak up if anything didn't sit right with her. He was thankful she wasn't one of those clingy types. They didn't need public touching or mushy talk to express their feelings for each other. It was just there, solid and dependable, without being a spectacle.

"So how long are we going to be in Washington?" Lucas asked.

"Not sure, pal. As long as it takes."

"What if they say no?" Kristin asked guardedly.

"I ask again. I ask someone else. I ask a different way. And I keep asking until someone says yes."

Lucas cleared his throat. "Uh, this is politicians we're talking about. They're like experts in blathering ad infinitum. What if they never say yes?"

"Then I pester the hell out of them until they put _seaQuest_ back in the water. That's one way to be sure we get out of dry dock on time."

"Okay," Lucas said, "if we're still that far north at Christmas, can we go to New York? I've always wanted to see the big tree at Rockefeller Center."

"Christmas?" Nathan teased. "You don't have much confidence in my persuasion skills."

Lucas was silent. Kristin nudged her fiancé with her elbow. "Well, I have confidence in you. But those tightfisted blowhards are another story."

"I'd like to get that 'yes' in a couple of weeks so we can concentrate on a wedding. But if we're still that far north in December, sure, we can go to New York." He really hoped they wouldn't be there though. As much as he enjoyed water, he didn't like the frozen variety. He wanted to get done in Washington and go home to his island or at least come back to Florida.

Lucas got them to the train station without wrecking the car or killing anyone. He really wasn't that bad of a driver, but Nathan wasn't going to say so. They turned in the car and bought train tickets, but the train wasn't there yet to board. Some outdoor tables and a fish taco stand provided a pleasant lunch while they waited.

When they got on the train, Nathan took a seat with a desk, where all the business passengers sat. Lucas got him set up with his portable computer. He whispered the password to a protected file where he was keeping the results of his ring search so that Nathan could look at it later. Kristin and Lucas sat in a cozy little chat booth just across the aisle. He could see them through the window, but he couldn't hear them as long as the door was closed. Although he felt a little left out, he knew he'd get more done this way. Every time he looked up, he could see Lucas laughing or talking animatedly and Kristin hanging on his every word. They were evidently having a good time catching up.

Nathan buried himself in the military database, digging up statistics on _seaQuest_. In the last thirteen months, they'd answered 48 distress calls from other vessels, 67 requests for assistance from underwater colonies, and mediated 82 disputes over territory, minerals, fishing, and farming. This wasn't even counting full-blown missions they'd been sent on by the UEO, or the times they'd stumbled into dangerous situations by accident. True enough, some of these situations could have been handled by others. Also true, he couldn't _prove_ that any of the small squabbles would have led to violence if they weren't handled by arbitrators who commanded the respect that _seaQuest_ did.

How could one _prove_ that threats to the security of all the oceans were coming, threats that didn't presently exist? How did one _prove_ that there were greedy individuals out there, searching for weaknesses to exploit? How could he communicate the urgency of taking action _now_, while there was time to build, so threats could be nipped in the bud and never wreak the havoc he'd seen reflected in his own haunted eyes? He wasn't even positive himself that just having _seaQuest_ back where she belonged wasn't enough. The oceans and the future might already be saved, for all he knew.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was going to have to play the fear card. What if _seaQuest_ disappeared again? The best way to illustrate the need was to suggest vulnerability of the one thing he spent most of his time, energy, and intellect protecting. But the last time _seaQuest_ was destroyed, he did it himself, to protect not only the underwater community, but the whole planet. The UEO could no longer afford to leave the oceans vulnerable during the time it took to build a new submarine. And since no one knew when he'd have to sacrifice his sub to save lives again, the only logical solution was to build another one _now_, even if he couldn't prove they needed it now. Backup systems might be redundant, but so what?

He crafted his speech around the idea of backups and not putting all the future's eggs in one basket. Once he got started, his passion took over and the words just spilled onto the computer screen. By the time he was done, the speech was probably an hour long. Now he'd have to work on cutting it down. But he should let Kristin look at it first. She'd fought for funding before. She knew how to persuade others to a cause.

He glanced over at the little chat booth. Lucas had left the seat facing Kristin and had buried his face in her shoulder. Kristin's arms were wrapped around him and his body was heaving great shudders. Kristin met Nathan's eyes. Her face was full of compassion and she dropped her eyelids a second to acknowledge she'd seen him. He gave her a sorrowful but understanding look, nodded, and then turned his attention away so as not to interrupt them. It hit him like a ton of bricks that this is what Wendy meant when she said that _seaQuest_ needed Kristin. They still needed Wendy, and Wendy knew it, but they needed Kristin too. Wendy's psychology mended their minds, but they needed Kristin's compassion to mend their spirits. And how fitting was it that Lucas be the first to experience the beginning of mending?

Nathan inhaled and sat back in the seat. A glance out the window revealed fir trees and mountains. They were much further north than he'd expected. The computer clock said they'd be at their destination in a couple of hours. He employed Lucas's password to open the engagement ring folder. There were five rings so far and while they all met the requirements he'd given, none of them seemed right for Kristin. He left Lucas a few notes and closed up the folder. It hadn't even been two days yet. He'd find something eventually.

He relaxed and soon found himself asleep and Kristin whispering in his ear. "Nathan? Nathan, did you want to eat dinner?"

He opened his eyes and yawned. He hadn't been so deeply under that he was disoriented. He had a momentary pang of worry about eating something as a passenger while hurtling through space at speeds probably close to what the _Fifi_ flew at. But at least here, there were lots of other passengers and even if the conductor bailed, they probably wouldn't crash. He gave her a half-hearted smile. "As long as it's not chicken."

Lucas burst out laughing, and oddly, so did Kristin. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You two and your chicken jokes. There's pasta, fish, and a vegetarian plate. Chicken isn't even one of the choices."

"Pasta sounds good," he said, stretching to return circulation. "Did you two have a nice talk?"

Lucas nodded emphatically. He'd washed his face and looked quite refreshed. "Oh yeah."

Kristin smiled. "Of course. Have you been sleeping the whole time?" He knew she was kidding because she'd seen him looking through the window when Lucas was broken down. But he didn't draw any attention to that.

"No. I did research and I wrote a speech, but I think it's too long. I wanted you to have a look at it and help me decide what to cut."

"All right. I'll look after dinner."

They placed their dinner orders and the food came very shortly after that. The chat booth converted into a lovely private dining car and they ate and talked and laughed. Nathan found he enjoyed it just as much as when he and Kristin had dined alone the first night he was back, right after she proposed.

Lucas and Kristin both helped him whittle his speech down to the strongest, most basic and clear message it could be. "You have to keep it simple, Captain," Lucas said. "These guys aren't smart about anything except getting re-elected. You've gotta keep it on their level."

By the time they got to Washington, he felt he was ready to go address Congress right then. However, it was 2030 hours and everyone had gone home. Plus, he couldn't just waltz right in and expect they'd drop whatever they were doing to give him an audience. He'd have to call some people and schedule his petition. That would be his first task in the morning. Now, he needed to find out where they'd be staying. Bill had promised to reserve him something on the navy base, but Nathan knew better than to expect anything but four walls and a hide-a-bed, maybe a kitchenette and a dining table. He fully expected that Kristin would run away in horror and find herself a hotel. She'd probably invite Lucas to come with her, and he really wouldn't blame the kid if he chose to stay with her, but he had a gut feeling that Lucas would politely refuse. He'd known the accommodations would be bad from the start. And he clearly didn't care.

When they arrived on base, the gate guard looked him up on the computer and then directed him to a nice little two-bedroom cottage, completely furnished with all the amenities. The master bedroom had a queen-sized bed and the other bedroom had a bunkbed. It was at least as big as Lucas's and Tony's quarters on _seaQuest_, but Lucas would have it all to himself.

"Nathan, this is lovely," Kristin said. "Were you trying to keep me away so you two could have wild poker parties or something?"

He shook his head, his jaw still dropped in surprise. "Not at all. I just didn't expect anything like this. Bill must have known you'd be with me. He's trying to impress _you_."

She folded her arms over her chest. "It worked. So am I invited?"

He blinked. "Of course." He gave her a wry smile. "You want to flip Lucas for the top bunk?"

She punched him in the biceps. "No, I think I'll take the nice big bed in here and _you_ can have the couch."

"You can have the bottom bunk in my room, Captain," Lucas offered jokingly.

"_My_ quarters and I've already been relegated to the couch or the bottom bunk," he grumbled good-naturedly.

"Yes, well, you'd better watch it," Kristin said with a completely straight face. "I think I saw a dog house out back."

None of them stopped laughing for at least a minute.

* * *

_**A/N: I've said before that it was going to be quite a while before there was any danger or huge conflict. Truthfully, I intended for the entire shore leave to be rather carefree, and that nothing bad was going to happen while **_**seaQuest**_** was in dry dock. But I've changed my mind. On a long drive to Los Angeles, some of these characters whispered to me that I myself have planted the seeds to some conflict that not only doesn't require **_**seaQuest**_**, but actually seems MORE plausible while she's grounded and everyone is on leave. **_

_**I don't know if I can get into it in the next chapter or not, but fair warning to anyone I told it was going to be smooth for the entire leave…I'm pulling a Zeller: I lied.**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_**~ONE MONTH AGO~**_

When Major George Slate escaped UEO custody, he contacted General Albert Denton.

"Slate, where the hell are you?" Denton fumed.

"I'm well-hidden. Did all of our targets survive?" He'd been part of an Air Force black-ops team assigned to dispose of some UEO traitors—Captain Bridger, Lieutenant O'Neill, and Lucas Wolenczak—and make it look like an accident.

"Affirmative. Black is lucky he's dead, or I'd be kicking his ass for his incompetence."

Slate winced. So Bridger hadn't been lying. Black really _was_ dead.

"Give me another team and I'll finish the job," Slate promised. As far as he was concerned, the three traitors were also complicit in the death of his teammates, Major Klein and Colonel Black.

"Negative. It's too risky now. Where are you?"

Slate didn't like the sound of that. "I don't know how secure this line is," he lied. "General, you didn't think I was really going to give them your name, did you?"

"You gave them Overbeck."

"I didn't know Overbeck from Adam. They figured him out all by themselves and I played along."

"My sources say your plea bargain included naming who gave you orders. That would be me."

"I swear I never told them anything. I never would have named you, General. It was all just to keep them occupied until I could escape."

"Then why won't you just tell me where you are?"

"Because I think you don't believe me. You think I'm going to betray you and that makes me a liability. I know what happens to liabilities. Is there any way I can earn your trust?"

"Finish the job."

"Alone?"

"If you're not going to tell me where you are, how would I send help?"

"You've got a point." He sighed. "Understood, General. I won't let you down."

There was only one of him and three targets. While he was trying to figure out how to get back on that sinking sardine can without being recognized, _seaQuest_ disappeared for a week and he thought he'd hit the jackpot. Talk about making it look like an accident!

But the bloody submarine "magically" reappeared (Yeah, right. That was so obviously staged by the media) and supposedly had an encounter with a spaceship (and if you believed that, there's some swampland in Louisiana for sale…) But idiot politicians probably bought it. Slate grinned to contemplate the monetary implications for the space program. After that, _seaQuest _headed to New Cape Quest, scheduled for dry dock. That was perfect. He wouldn't have to board. The crew would all be on land and vulnerable. Slate grew a beard and colored all his hair.

_**~ONE WEEK AGO~**_

A huge crowd met the returning sub in New Cape Quest and it was a simple matter to hide in that crowd. Too many of the crew had seen him when he was a prisoner, but he'd changed his appearance quite a bit and hid easily in the multitude.

Wolenczak disembarked first. He met some lady on the docks, chatted, and then left with another woman. Slate memorized the license plate number of the limousine he left in.

Lieutenant O'Neill got off next. He and some long-haired Hispanic guy headed toward base housing. He shouldn't be too hard to find later. With any luck, the next time, he'd be alone. He wasn't Slate's first choice anyway. The captain disembarked considerably later, and the lady who'd first talked to Wolenczak was still there to meet him. Slate was a paratrooper and a pilot, but not a sniper, and while he'd do anything necessary under orders, he had no orders to kill an innocent woman. And if he couldn't kill her, he couldn't allow her to become a witness. Slate kept on them for over a day, but Bridger never left her even long enough to buy a pack of gum.

Slate gave up on the captain for the present and used the license plate to track down the Wolenczak boy. But no sooner had he staked out the kid's ritzy apartment complex and found him alone but who showed up? That infernal Captain Bridger and his lady friend! From the amount of gear they loaded into the lady's rent-a-car, it looked like Wolenczak was planning an extended visit with Bridger, probably to conspire some more, if he knew traitors.

He followed the three of them to Miami where they boarded the bullet train. It wasn't hard to find them in the AmTrak passenger list online and discover their destination. Since they all bought one-way tickets to Washington D.C. at the same time, he now knew their traveling companion was Dr. Kristin Westphalen, a British citizen in the country on a temporary visa. He'd have to find a way to get the two males away from her. Then it hit him. If he could capture the lieutenant, he could use him as bait to lure the other two into a trap somewhere remote and then kill all three of them at once. No lady. No witnesses.

_**~PRESENT~**_

Sure enough, it was easy to find the lieutenant back in New Cape Quest. Slate watched him for a couple of days, waiting for the perfect opportunity. In the morning, he walked to the dry dock and spent about 30 minutes talking to that Dagger oaf who was staying with the beached sub and cleaning up after work crews. Then O'Neill went SCUBA-diving with some short guy whose Italian-Philly accent Slate remembered hearing from _seaQuest_'s brig. But the Hispanic guy was no longer around. The lieutenant evidently lived alone and spent the majority of his time in one of those dinky, drafty bachelor pads common to all military bases.

On the second day, after talking to the Dagger janitor, O'Neill left the navy base carrying a bunch of stuff. He walked to a public park near the beach and found a deserted spot of grass, surrounded by trees and hedges, and overlooking a lighthouse. He set up an easel and a folding chair, and then unpacked a canvas, palette, and paint. Then he sat there, all alone, and started to paint. Slate couldn't have asked for a better set-up than this. He readied two tranquilizer darts and loaded them in his rifle. It was too bad he needed to keep this gangly four-eyes alive, because this spot was so isolated, it would have been a perfect place to kill him.

Slate and was about to take the easy shot when he realized the guy was laughing. He watched a little longer and saw him nod and smile. He couldn't see a Bluetooth in the ear facing him, so it had to be in the other ear. He didn't want to take him out when he was talking to someone. The tranquilizer wasn't so immediate that he couldn't call for help if he was already connected. Wait a minute. Pasty Painter wasn't talking at all. He was just listening. He probably had one of those wireless EarDot radios. Slate laid low and watched a while to be sure. Ten minutes and his lips never moved. By his expressions, it was apparent he was listening to something, either that, or the guy was certifiably insane.

He'd had enough of this goon. He aimed his rifle and fired noiselessly. The dart hit him in the bicep and he fell sideways off the chair without even opening his mouth. _Perfect_. Slate walked over to the unconscious body and looked around for the EarDot, but he couldn't find it. However, those things were so small that had it fallen into the grass, he'd never see it. The good news was, there was definitely no Bluetooth.

Slate hurried to his vehicle and removed a wheelchair from the trunk. He might be able to drag the guy to the car unseen, but he didn't want to take a chance with an errant jogger or bicyclist. This _was_ Florida, after all. Propped in the chair with a blanket over his lap and sunglasses over his eyes, Slate could pass him off as an invalid brother he'd taken out for some sunshine. Pale as he was, no one would doubt he needed it. The body was a little hard to maneuver into the chair by himself, but Slate was sure no one could see him through all the trees and bushes.

He got the guy strapped in so you couldn't tell he wasn't holding himself up, and then exchanged his glasses for dark shades. Slate packed up the paint and palette and placed the supplies atop the lap-blanket of his invalid. He straightened his own clothes and hair before walking nonchalantly behind the wheelchair and slowly to his car. He'd loaded the dart to the maximum dose, recalling how this guy had been so resistant to Videxicone when they drugged him on the _Fifi_. He wouldn't be waking up for a very long time.

Slate took a good look around to make sure no one was passing by before he did the awkward transfer from the chair to the car. Skinny though he looked, he was heavy. Slate didn't bother trying to sit him up. He dumped him on the back bench seat, secured his wrists behind his back with a thick zip-tie, and covered him with a sheet. He'd already set the rear and side windows to mirrored shade. Almost every car sold in the state came with windows that could be tinted, untinted, mirrored, and opaqued with the turn of a knob. It was touted for reducing exposure of passengers and upholstery to UV rays, but Slate only cared that no one could see into the interior of his car. It was still too hot in September to stuff a body in the trunk. At least not if you cared about keeping it alive to be useful as bait.

He locked the car and made a quick trip back to the little hidden vantage point to grab the easel and folding chair. He also found and removed a paintbrush that had fallen in the grass. It was better nothing be left behind to give anyone a clue that something had transpired here. He looked again for an EarDot, but couldn't find it. He consoled himself with the fact that it was literally a needle in a haystack. If he couldn't find it, knowing where to look, then no one else would. Slate stuffed all the extraneous junk in his trunk and then quietly drove off. Cruising just below the speed limit (so as not to draw any attention), he had enough charge on his batteries to go at least 500 miles before he'd have to stop and recharge.

Slate didn't like being this close to UEO headquarters and all these navy guys. In fact, he didn't like being this close to the ocean either. Klein had died on a submarine and Black drowned when his jet copter was shot down over the Pacific. Slate wasn't going to be anywhere near the water if he could help it. He had several options for a hideout—all of them far inland—and plenty of time to consider the merits and pitfalls of each one while he drove further and further away from the cursed ocean.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Wendy sat back in her airline seat and drew a deep breath. She flew first class because plane rides were typically very difficult for Receivers. Too many people with anxiety over heights and terrorists and claustrophobia to add cramped seating to the list. She did her best to block out the taxing emotions of others, but it had been a very long flight from Quito, Ecuador. The plane had refueled in Atlanta, but there hadn't been time to disembark. They were finally nearing their destination: Baltimore, Maryland. Her mother, Admiral Lexington Smith, was teaching at Annapolis and Wendy was long overdue for a visit.

Since they were neither taking off nor landing, it was possible to gain a modicum of quiet in her mind if she concentrated hard on her meditation techniques.

_Wendy! Wendy, can you hear me?_ Mary's voice was urgent.

Wendy bolted alert. _Yes, I hear you. What is it?_

_I was talking to Tim and he suddenly said, "Ouch". I asked what was wrong and he didn't answer me. He's still not answering. Something's wrong, Wendy. He's unconscious._

Wendy frowned. _Are you scanning him again?_

_He gave me permission to do flyby checks. I swear. But I haven't even been doing that since we started talking. _

_You've been __**talking**__? Really?_

_We've been working on the Hyberion language and just chatting. We talk almost every day now that he's on leave. He's__** never**__ cut me off like this, Wendy. This isn't like him._

Wendy would have to remember to address this interesting development another time. Mary was right though. It wasn't like Tim to ignore anyone, and the fact he said ouch right before he went silent did not sound good at all. _Let me see if I can get a hold of someone to check up on him. He's probably fine._

_You don't believe that._

She'd forgotten this was an empathic connection. Mary would be able to easily read any emotion she didn't hide behind her walls. _I'm trying to convince myself as much as you_.

_Sorry. I'm just really worried about him._

_I can feel that._ In fact, she could feel a lot more from Mary than she usually did. _Do you know where Tim was when you lost contact?_

_He was at a park somewhere where he could see a lighthouse. He was getting ready to paint it. One minute he was joking around and the next minute, he was gone._

_Did he walk to the park or drive? _Wendy didn't know if Tim had a car or not, but Mary would understand what she was getting at.

_He walked. It was no more than fifteen minutes from his house._

_He lives on the navy base, right?_

_Yes._

_Good. That narrows it down considerably. There's only one lighthouse near the base, I think. I'm going to call some people on vid-link. Keep trying with Tim. I'll get back to you, okay?_

_Okay, Wendy. Thanks._

Wendy waited until Mary severed the connection before she sighed. She didn't have everyone's military records with her. She had some email addresses, but not physical addresses or vid-link numbers. She found Fort Gore base security in the digital directory and called them first.

"Hello, this is Dr. Wendy Smith from _seaQuest_. Is there any way I can get someone to go check on one of my patients?"

A very bored-looking petty officer yawned. "_SeaQuest_ is in dry dock, lady. There's no one aboard but a really dumb Dagger."

"The _**GELF**_ has a name, sailor. But he isn't my concern right now." She didn't have time to mess around like this. "Get me your commanding officer."

He jumped from his seat and disappeared from screen for a moment. A lieutenant in khaki appeared across the room and she heard the petty officer whisper, "She says she's from _seaQuest_." The lieutenant dipped his head when he got closer to the screen. "Ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Brown. How can I help you?"

"I'm Dr. Wendy Smith, Chief Medical Officer on _seaQuest_." It didn't matter that she had resigned that position for the next tour. She should still be listed in the database. She grabbed her military identification badge from her purse and let its image fill the screen.

"I visually confirm your identity, thank you, ma'am. What can we do for you?"

"Lieutenant Timothy O'Neill lives on base housing. I have reason to suspect he's having a medical emergency, but I'm on a plane to Baltimore. Could you send someone to check on him for me, please? He's at the park overlooking the lighthouse."

"That's off base, out of our jurisdiction."

"He's a naval officer and he needs help."

"I can call paramedics for him. What exactly happened?"

"I'm not sure." There was an awkward silence. "I wasn't talking to him when it happened."

He narrowed his eyes, brows slanting in doubt. "You weren't talking to him? Then how do you know there's an emergency?" Brown was more careful with his tone and his manners, but he didn't believe her any more than the petty officer did.

Wendy allowed her voice to get harsh. "Check my UEO profile, Lieutenant. I'm a certified Empath. I'm the one who saved half the Pentagon from the Avatar. Now, are you going to send someone to check on O'Neill, or do I call Admiral Noyce next?"

_That_ got his attention. "I'll send someone to his house and someone to the park right away. Anything I should tell the med techs if he's in arrest?"

"Just tell them his doctor suspects foul play. I think he's been hit with a stun gun or possibly pistol whipped. You can reach me at this number. I expect a report either way, _Lieutenant Brown_." She articulated his name slowly and carefully to emphasize the fact that she remembered it.

"Yes, ma'am."

Wendy started thinking ahead. Tim walked to a park to paint a lighthouse and something or someone caused him to lose consciousness. _Why?_ She couldn't help thinking how similar the circumstances were to the time Mariah kidnapped him. At least she could be reasonably sure that the weapon hadn't been one of those Genome Wave Energy Zappers they use on GELFs. She felt it when he was hit with one of those. That was what gave him his Transmitting abilities in the first place. While no one could know what another exposure to that kind of energy would do to him, Wendy couldn't imagine that she'd be able to miss it if it happened again. Mary was already connected at the time, so she most definitely would have felt it, but all she seemed concerned about was losing contact.

Why would someone attack a painter in a park? Wendy supposed it could be a simple mugging. The perpetrator would have to be rather stupid or stoned. She'd seen the way Tim dressed when he wasn't in uniform and it didn't scream wealth, and that was when he wasn't planning to paint! Okay, so maybe not everyone worried about getting paint on their clothes. She had to admit that he would appear to be an easy target—skinny, pale, thick glasses, probably concentrating so intently on his task that he was oblivious to threat.

She kept trying to hope it was someone just out for his wallet, but the longer she thought about it, the harder it was to convince herself that it was something that easy. Then a disturbing thought hit. Her vid-link device doubled as an e-reader and she subscribed to the military newspaper, _Stars and Stripes,_ electronically. She'd skimmed a lot of old articles back on Galapagos Colony, and now she thought she remembered something. She cued up the periodical and used the search function, typing in "Overbeck" with her thumb on the tiny keypad.

Sure enough, she _had_ seen something about Overbeck. He was out on bail and his trial was now on indefinite hold because the main witness against him, the Air Force major, George Slate, had escaped from prison. She felt the panic rise in her. Had anyone even told Tim? Would he have been wandering off base, alone, had he known that one of the pilots who sabotaged the _Fifi_ had escaped? Could she keep this disturbing information from Mary? Her gut instinct told her to call Captain Bridger immediately, but she forced herself to wait for a report from Lieutenant Brown. If he didn't call back within fifteen minutes, she would call him. Thank goodness the airlines had shielded all their electronics so they no longer had to forbid cell phones and vid-links during take-offs and landing anymore. How did people ever live without communication on airplanes before?

Mary got restless first. _Wendy? Have you heard anything? He's still not answering me._

_Mary, it's only been ten minutes. I talked to base security. They're sending someone to his house and the park. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something. _Wendy was about to break the connection, but it wasn't like Lieutenant Brown would get a busy signal while she chatted telepathically. She needed the distraction as much as Mary did.

_So, what have you been chatting about with Tim?_

Wendy felt Mary's rush of emotion—a little embarrassment but a lot of giddy excitement. _We talked about the Hyberion surrender song for a long time and I was sure he'd stop calling me once he was done with questions about it, but he didn't. We don't chat about anything all that exciting, just dumb things like what I ate for breakfast and what color towels he should get for his bathroom._

_Has he seen you on vid-link?_

_No. We email or talk telepathically. He's never even __**asked**__ for my vid-link._

Only Mary would find that a point of attraction. _I haven't felt you this excited in years._

_He's sweet, easy to talk to, and incredibly smart. I owe you big for making me try to talk to him. Thanks._

Wendy chuckled to herself. Yes, she'd 'made' her, but only because she could see how mutually beneficial it could be for both her and Tim._ So how does he __**feel**__ about you?_

Mary's excitement faded a few notches._ I can't ask him that, Wendy. I'd rather just enjoy what we have and not ruin it._

_But haven't you felt him even a little?_

_No. I'd have to be willing to let him scan me and I can't._

_He's not an empath, Mary. He's just a Transmitter. He __**can't**__ scan you._

_You know what I mean. I won't ask anything I'm not willing to answer. Besides, weren't you the one scolding me just for doing fly-bys? You're not suggesting I probe him without asking, are you?_

_I wouldn't say 'probe', just don't hold back so tight on your natural abilities._

_That's semantics and you know it!_

_Would it be so bad to admit you're crazy about him?_

_If he doesn't feel the same? Yes. You know why I can't do that._

_Will you tell __**me **__how you feel?_

_Are you going to push me to 'do something about it'?_

_I pushed you to talk to him and now you're thankful._

_That was lucky. He would have dropped me like a rock if I didn't have alien language samples that no one else on the planet had._

_I disagree, but I can't prove it. All right. No pushing._

It would be very difficult to explain how or describe it, but Wendy felt Mary open a hole in her personal wall and the wave of emotion that gushed out slammed her like water out of a floodgate. Mary was head over heels for Tim. She had a few issues that prevented her from being completely in love with him, but she was pretty darn close, especially for someone she'd never met in person. Wendy's breath caught in her throat. If she hadn't already been sitting, she was sure she would have faltered. _Wow_.

Mary giggled. _You asked for it_.

If Tim felt even half of this, these two would probably end up engaged. _You let me know when you're ready to meet him_.

Her schoolgirl giddiness vanished like smoke. Mary couldn't slam shut her emotional door fast enough to hide the rush of terror.

Wendy was pretty sure it wasn't just because mention of his name reminded her he was unconscious either. Ever so gently, she mind-whispered, _Mary, I know Tim. I've been in his mind. He's not like Paul._

_I know, _she said unconvincingly.

_No, you __**don't**__ know. But give him time._

_That's exactly what I want. Just time. Oh, please let him be okay._

Wendy's vid-link light flashed. She forgot she'd put it on silent for the plane. She wondered how long it might have been flashing while she'd been distracted with Mary. _Hold on, the base is calling_, she mindspoke to Mary even as she pressed the button to connect the call. Lieutenant Brown's face filled the screen. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"There's no one home at his house. The door was locked and there was no sign of forced entry or any struggle. Same at the park. No indication he was ever there. We questioned people. No one saw him."

_He had a chair and an easel!_ Mary protested loudly in her mind.

Wendy gave the lieutenant a nod. "I need you to give his description to all security personnel. If he comes back on base, if anyone sees him, detain him and call me immediately. Is my authorization enough for you, or do I have to get Captain Bridger or Admiral Noyce to give the order?" She planned to call the captain anyway and she wouldn't hesitate to call Noyce either, if she had to.

"Your word is enough, ma'am. I apologize for my earlier rudeness."

"Apology accepted, Lieutenant. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly."

Brown nodded and shut off the connection.

_I don't like it, Wendy. He couldn't just disappear if he's unconscious._

_I know. Let me call the captain. Can I give him your number if he wants to talk to you?_

_Yes. Anything I can do to help._

_Captain Bridger will find him, Mary. Try not to worry._

Mary didn't answer and Wendy knew why. It would be physically impossible for her not to worry and she wasn't going to promise anything she knew she couldn't do. _You know where to find me_, she said before ending their connection.

Wendy sighed with relief. Now all she had to do was track down the captain. A search through her vid-link address book was no help. She had his private line on _seaQuest_ and his land line on his island, but she knew he was neither of those places. All she had right now was his email. No, wait. She'd seen the mass forward of the captain's engagement announcement which had also said Lucas was staying with him and Dr. Westphalen. Lucas didn't have a portable vid-link that she knew of, but it was a good bet that the doctor had one.

It took a little while to track down her number because it was in the UK, but she finally found a Dr. Kristin Westphalen in a Birmingham directory. She was surprised how nervous she was when she pressed the buttons to make the connection. Dr. Westphalen was a legend on _seaQuest _and her shoes had been impossible to fill. If all went well, Wendy would be her assistant on the next tour, which meant this woman would be her supervisor when it came to Medbay. She hadn't quite let all the repercussions of that decision sink in yet, but the fact Wendy had had some personal history with Nathan didn't make this any easier.

She pushed aside her personal nervousness. This wasn't about her. Tim had allowed her to remember his feelings towards Dr. Westphalen and Wendy couldn't imagine he could feel like that about her unless she'd been at least a little fond of him.

A beautiful woman with wavy auburn tresses filled the tiny screen. Wendy had seen her face in medical recordings many times and recognized her immediately. She spoke with a British accent: "Hello?"

"Dr. Westphalen? I'm so sorry to disturb you. This is Dr. Wendy Smith from _seaQuest_. I need to speak to Captain Bridger immediately. It's an emergency."

"I'm sorry, but he's not in at the moment. He's addressing Congress. Is there anything I can do?"

Lucas's head popped up beside the doctor. "Dr. Smith? What's wrong?"

"You know our friend Mary?"

"The telepath that helped us after the plane crash? Yeah."

"She was talking to Tim when he suddenly said 'ouch' and then passed out. I called base security at Fort Gore and he's missing."

"Tim _O'Neill_?" Dr. Westphalen interrupted.

"Yes," Wendy confirmed.

"We saw him two days ago," Dr. Westphalen said. "He came to help put the trimaran together."

"This happened no more than twenty minutes ago," Wendy said. "Does the captain have a vid-link with him?"

"No. He doesn't carry one." She paused a half-second and then her eyes lit up. "But he does have a voice-cell."

"I have the number. Just a sec," Lucas said, ducking off screen.

"I'm sure he's tuned it off," Dr. Westphalen said.

It _would_ look rather bad to have a phone ringing in one's pocket while addressing Congress. Wendy nodded. "That's all right. I'll leave a message. I'm landing in Baltimore within the hour. You're in the Washington area, right?"

Dr. Westphalen nodded. "Yes, quite close, I believe. Nathan said we're technically in Virginia."

"Would you mind if I came there to wait for him? I really do need to speak to him whether he gets my message or not."

"Not at all. Nathan has the highest respect for you. He'll probably be mad at the congress-people for delaying him if there's any kind of emergency with his crew."

Wendy was already starting to like Dr. Westphalen. She smiled in agreement. She wanted to mention Slate being on the lam, but not in front of Lucas. Was there anyone else she could notify while they waited? "Lucas, do you have Lieutenant Brody's number?"

The teen popped back in view, smirking. "You know I could get it if I didn't."

"Well, I probably could too, but if you already have it, why waste time?"

"Good point." He waved a small card. "I've got the captain's cell number here, but he said not to give it to anyone who isn't from _seaQuest_."

"I won't give it to anyone but Brody," Wendy promised. She actually found it rather sweet that Lucas was being so careful with Nathan's privacy.

Lucas read off the number and Wendy programmed it straight into her address book, reading it back to confirm she entered it properly. Then they did the same with Brody's personal vid-link number, Lucas getting that one from his computer.

"Thanks, Lucas. I'll see you soon," Wendy said, mostly to Lucas, but not without knowing her new boss heard it too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Tim felt consciousness seep slowly into his mind, but his head was pounding and his body felt like lead. His wrists were bound behind his back and the arm he'd been lying on and both hands were numb. With much straining, he tried to open his eyes, but he found the effort wasted. He seemed to be wearing sunglasses in very dim light. Something about the texture of the upholstery and the smell suggested he was lying on the seat of a car, but he couldn't explain just how he came to that conclusion. He felt no engine vibrations and no indication of road imperfections. If he was in a car, it wasn't moving.

Mary's voice was the first thing he heard, soft and compassionate, wafting into his mind like a gentle breeze. _Tim? Are you all right?_

He knew his mindvoice would reflect his abysmal physical state, but he tried to inject as much humor as he could. _Compared to the last time I was in mortal danger? I'm good._

_I know you're trying to be brave, but please tell me the truth._

_I am. No one has kicked me in the gut, whipped my back to shreds, or threatened to drive spikes into my ears. I have no jellyfish stings or hunks of debris in my hands. And I'm pretty sure I'm not trapped in 1504 or in a sabotaged plane that's about to crash._

Her patience didn't slip. _Well, that's good. Now tell me the bad news._

_I have a nasty headache. My hands are bound behind my back. I can't move and I can't see._

_Thank you for being honest with me. Wendy sent base security right after I lost contact, but they didn't find any trace of you. She's with Captain Bridger in Washington now. Do you have any idea where you are or who did this to you?_

He sighed._ I think I may be in a car. But no clue where the car is or who did this. How long have I been out?_

_Four hours. I've been so worried about you. _Her voice wavered a little._ I want you to know the last few weeks, you've made me happier than I've been in years. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you._

Tim was so taken aback, he didn't know what to say. She'd spent an incredible amount of time helping him learn the Hyberion surrender lament. Pronouncing the lyrics wasn't difficult, especially after she'd written a syllable-by-syllable transcript and provided an mp3. But Mary had pointed out (rather astutely, in Tim's opinion) that, just like in the old movie, _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_, it was possible that the musical notes carried just as much meaning as the words. She insisted on helping him get the notes just as perfect as the words. Furthermore, while he'd been on _seaQuest_, his free time had come at widely varying hours, but she'd never complained what time of day or night he contacted her for telepathic conversations.

Thanks to her, he now had the song memorized and he had a good perception what each passage conveyed, though he couldn't figure out the syntax or pinpoint what individual words meant. It was a lot like watching an opera in a language one didn't know and getting the gist of it from the expressions and the acting rather than understanding the words.

Once they had thoroughly covered the song, he thanked her profusely for her time and promised not to bother her anymore. Then she said if he really wanted to thank her, he wouldn't stop talking to her just because she couldn't get another Hyberion language sample! Of course, studying the language had been his _excuse_ every time he called her. He knew how dry and dull he was. He regularly saw his shipmates' eyes glaze over when he tried to carry on intelligent conversations outside of work. He could even bore Lucas, for goodness sake! Why would he impose that on a kind and intelligent woman who'd already bent over backwards to help him?

The harshest words she'd ever spoken to him were rebuttals to that assumption. She wasn't glad they were done with Hyberion so she could be left alone. She was glad they were done so he could talk about himself and other subjects more. Unbelievable! And she didn't change her mind once he tried it either. She laughed at his lame jokes and she kept up even when he went off on nerdy tangents. She didn't know any other language besides English, nor did she understand circuits and electronics, but she was smart in subjects he didn't have any aptitude for, like algebra, and she held her own when discussing science and history.

And she was so darned nice. She didn't use put-downs or deprecating remarks even in humor. He knew he would always be able to call her when he got in trouble, something that seemed to be happening quite a bit lately, but he never allowed himself to think she was enjoying their talks as much as he was. He figured it was only a matter of time before he bored her beyond tolerance. But to hear he made her happy? He started feeling all warm inside.

Mary broke the awkward silence. _I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced my feelings on you. I told Wendy not to push and here I am, pushing you while you're in—what did you call it?—mortal danger._

Tim drew a deep breath. His muscles screamed in stiffness, but he ignored them. _Mary, if I get out of this alive, will you go out with me?_

_Um…I…that's probably not a good idea. I'm not good in public. You wouldn't want to be seen with me._

He sighed. Rejection was still rejection, no matter how she tried to blame herself. _That's okay. I just thought…_ He trailed off. What_ did_ he think? _Nevermind_.

_I'm really, really flattered, Tim. I just have a lot of baggage. Ask Wendy sometime. She'll explain. Besides, I saw your picture in the paper. You can't be __**that**__ desperate for dates, as cute as you are._

_C-cute? _He felt his face warming with embarrassment.

_Don't tell me you don't know it? I mean, sure, you're not Chad Wagner, but he's got an ego the size of Texas. Women aren't even people to him; they're accessories. It's cute men like you that women want._

Yeah, right. He managed to think without Transmitting it. He'd been tranq'ed, bound, kidnapped, and turned down for a date all in the same afternoon. He really didn't feel like being made fun of, too. No brilliant comebacks came to mind, so he just seethed in silence.

_Tim, did I say something wrong?_

_Look, if you don't want to go out with me, fine. But I think I've had a bad enough day that you could cut me some slack with the cheap shots._

_Cheap shots? You really __**don't**__ know, do you? Tim, _**I**_ am ugly. And I'm not just saying that. It's a fact. One of the reasons I don't go out in public is because I can feel everyone's repulsion. Most people don't say anything out loud, because they've been taught it's rude, but they can't help thinking it and I can't block strong emotions when it's in close proximity. I used to, but I can't anymore. If I wanted to lay on false flattery, I would never do it over appearances. I mean it, Tim. You __**are**__ cute._

_I won't call you a liar, but let's just say there's no waiting list to go out with me._

_Do you have sisters? Female cousins? A good friend who's a girl?_

_Four brothers, no sisters. All my girl cousins lived far away. I hardly know them. I'm on speaking terms with women on the crew, but that's about it. I think Wendy's my friend, but we weren't really very close until recently._

_Wendy! Oh my gosh. I forgot to tell her you're conscious. Can I bring her in?_

_Wait. What were you going to say first? Why did you ask about sisters and cousins?_

_I'm guessing you're socially awkward. You get tongue-tied or say the wrong things, right?_

He would have accused her of cheap shots again, but this time it was too close for comfort._ Yeah. I'm the guy who speaks twelve languages but can't come up with anything to say on his own._

_Wrong. You and I have been talking every day._

_You're different._

_I'll take that as a compliment. But the point is that you can talk when you're at ease. You just need to practice with non-threatening girls. I'll help you and I'm sure Wendy will too. They'll be lining up after we're done with you._

He stopped Transmitting long enough to think that he didn't want women lining up; he wanted _her_. The admission surprised him a little. She'd rejected him and claimed to be ugly. He'd always had a thing for beautiful women, even though he knew on some level that it was hypocritical. Could it be that he really didn't care that much what she looked like? He found himself strangely comforted that she wasn't going to stop talking to him. She even had this crazy notion that she could help him with his conversational awkwardness. Hey, wait a minute. _Mary, you're an admitted hermit who doesn't go out in public and you think you're going to help __**me**__ with __**my**__ social problems?_

_I think I can, yes. But I also said Wendy would help. Speaking of…can I connect her now?_

_Yeah, go ahead._

_Wendy, he's conscious. Do you want to talk to him?_

_Are you hurt, Tim? _Wendy's voice asked urgently.

_Head's pounding. Wrists tied so tight there's no circulation. Can't get my muscles to move. But other than that, I'm fine. How was your vacation?_

_My **vacation**? Tim, you've been kidnapped!_

_What else is new?_

_Who did it?_

_I don't know. I didn't see it coming at all. Some kind of tranquilizer dart hit me in the arm and then I woke up here. I think I'm in a car, but they put some kind of dark glasses on me and it's kind of dark, like stormy or maybe we're parked in the shade. I can't see past the sunglasses but without my prescription lenses, I couldn't make anything out anyway._

_Can you hear anything? Traffic? Environmental noise? Television or radio?_

_Negative. I don't even hear breathing. I think I'm alone._

_That could be good. Work on getting your muscles to move. Maybe you can escape._

He knew it was an officer's duty to try to escape, but his last few escape attempts had been miserable failures. Beauregard's prison cell didn't have any flaws to exploit, jumping out of a plane into the middle of the Pacific only got everyone more lost, and Commander Ford had to compromise his principles to get him away from Mariah. It took every ounce of his will to keep dejection from his tone. _Yes, Doctor._

_The captain wants me to tell you that if your kidnapper puts you on vid-link, to ignore anything he says. If he has any real orders, he'll tell you through me. We think it could be Major Slate._

_Slate? I thought he was in prison! SeaQuest delivered him to Pearl with footage from Captain Hitchcock's helicopter and everything._

_He escaped. And Slate wasn't on that footage, only Colonel Black was._

_Great. Just great. _He realized he wasn't guarding his thoughts again_. Sorry._

_Captain Bridger isn't happy about it either. With Slate missing, Overbeck is off the hook too. He's living on a full admiral's pension._

Tim gritted his teeth a moment and then relaxed into miserable resignation._ If it's Slate, he's probably going to kill me anyway. Don't let the captain sacrifice himself for me. We'd just both end up dead._

_I'm not even going to repeat that to him, Tim. You know I couldn't stop him anyway. But he knows the situation. Brody is standing by. As soon as the kidnapper makes contact, we should be able to get a fix on your location and send him in._

_Alone?_

A short pause._ Captain Bridger says he can get a whole squadron of SEALs if we need to. No one is going to underestimate this guy again. Promise._

_I think I hear someone coming._

_The captain says no heroics. Play along for now._

Tim chuckled. What else was he going to do in his present condition? _Tell him I said, "Aye, aye."_

Tim heard Wendy repeat it out loud. It was really kind of funny that whoever had driven him out to whatever secluded place this was had no idea how many people were on the party line in his brain.

The door handle engaged and the hinges squeaked when he felt a rush of surprisingly cool air. _Definitely a car door._ He narrated what was happening, partly to have something to do to stem the tide of nervousness and partly to keep the questions to a minimum. A large hand clamped around his upper arm and then he was yanked upright.

"Cooperate and I'll kill you quickly when it's time," a dark voice growled.

_Not a motivational speaker_, Tim commentated. _Still can't tell who it is._

"I'm going to take off the sunglasses. You look at the camera and state your name, rank, and serial number, got it?"

"I got it," Tim said with surprisingly little fear. Then, _You were right. It's Slate_, to his listening friends. He recognized the voice when he wasn't grunting and growling.

The glasses came off and Tim blinked into the blurry greyness. A stack of papers he assumed was that day's newspaper was shoved onto his lap.

"Now, traitor," Slate growled.

"Timothy O'Neill. Lieutenant. UEO P7824463," he droned. He almost said 'J.G.' but caught himself. This was the first time anyone had asked his rank since he'd been promoted.

"I said, 'Look into the camera,'" Slate growled.

"And I can't see your camera without my glasses," Tim shot back. He also couldn't see the hand that flew toward his jaw, but he felt it. He lost his balance and fell back into the car floorboard. How fair was it to hit a guy who couldn't see and couldn't hit back? Anger rose in his chest, but he suppressed it. This guy had beat him up before at 50,000 feet. This time, his attacker had no pressing reason to leave and could just keep hitting and kicking him. He hadn't even tried to hide the fact he was going to kill him. The captain had said to play along, so Tim didn't make any retort. _Still has a good right hook_, he Transmitted, trying to sound humorous.

_Are you okay?_ Mary asked.

_Yeah. Dr. Smith will fix me up later._

_Actually, _Wendy interjected, _Dr. Westphalen is with me and she's Chief Medical Officer now. She looks just as worried as the captain. I think she'll want to do the fixing-up_.

_There you go, Mary. You said they'd be lining up_, he teased.

_Not doctors wanting to treat you, Tim!_

The dark glasses came back on and Slate shoved a leg out of the way and then slammed the car door shut again.

_I guess you'll be hearing from him soon_, Tim said. _He's left me alone in the car again. Just ask the captain not to let Lucas put the video on CyberVid_.

_Lucas would never do that and you know it_, Wendy scolded lightly.

_Sorry. Bad joke. You're right. Don't tell him I said that._

_Tim, we're going to go discuss strategy. Mary can contact me at any time, okay?_

_Tell everyone I said, 'hi.'_

_At least your spirits are up, _Wendy remarked.

Mary spoke next. _She's gone, but I'm not leaving you unless you ask me to_.

_I'm not very good company right now._

_Balderdash. I'm staying to keep __**you**__ company, not the other way around._

_You won't be mad if I fall asleep?_

_No, Tim,_ she said softly. And then she started to hum what could have been a love song or a lullaby. No words, just a musical notes and a soothing feminine voice.

_That's so beautiful_, he thought wistfully as he drifted out of consciousness. He wasn't sure if he kept his thought private or not.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Nathan looked around the dining room table. Kristin was seated to his left and Lucas to his right. Wendy sat across from him. She'd been communicating with Tim through Mary and while she tried to relay what she could during the conversation, she needed to concentrate on what was being said. She looked up and sighed. "It's Slate. He just made a recording. We should be hearing soon."

"How is he?" Nathan asked.

"He's pretty well immobilized but he's not significantly injured," Wendy said. "He was joking with me."

Nathan nodded. O'Neill was tough. If Slate had wanted him dead, he could have used bullets instead of a tranquilizer. But he'd been kidnapped instead of killed. He was safe for the moment.

"What does this guy Slate have against us in the first place?" Lucas blurted out.

"That's a good question," Nathan said. "One we had hoped would get answered in court. Overbeck has never liked me, but no one in the Air Force would be taking orders from him anyway. I'm not sure if you and O'Neill were just collateral damage because you happened to be with me on the _Fifi_ or what."

"No one is on the _Fifi_ now," Kristin pointed out.

"And Slate told Tim he was going to kill him no matter what. His cooperation only gets him a quick and easy death," Wendy said in a grave tone.

"That doesn't sound like collateral damage to me," Kristin grumbled.

"Which means he'll kill me too," Lucas muttered.

Nathan stood and used his best command voice. "We're not going to let him kill _anybody_." He didn't know how he was going to stop it, but he didn't need negative thinking. "Doctor," he said, looking at Wendy. "Is he still moving?"

"No. Slate locked him in the parked car."

He shuddered. "Well, let's hope it's not in the sun." Chances were Slate didn't want to cook him, so he didn't dwell on the possibility. He turned to the teen. "Lucas, use Bayside Park in New Cape Quest as a starting point and calculate how far someone could get in a car in the time that's elapsed."

"Going how fast?"

"Speed limit. He wouldn't want to stand out in any way."

"I'm on it." He dashed off toward his computer.

Nathan knew it would give them a huge search radius, but probably a good portion of it would be in the water and could therefore be eliminated. Too bad. Nathan would have preferred to go after this guy in his own domain. He was just thankful Slate didn't have a plane. Land was neutral territory and therefore neither of them had an advantage. Well, except the major held a hostage. But he couldn't know how monumentally stupid a choice he'd made to kidnap a Transmitter who could report everything in real time and right under his nose. Nathan had to pat himself on the back for keeping O'Neill's ability a secret.

Kristin stood and moved in Wendy's direction. "Dr. Smith, would you care to lie down? You must be exhausted after that long flight from South America. I'm sure Lucas wouldn't mind the couch if you'd like to sleep in our guest room."

"Call me Wendy, please. Are you sure? I have family near Annapolis. It's not far."

Kristin did that eyebrow lift thing and shot a glance at Nathan before looking back. "No trouble at all, Wendy. I for one would much rather have you here so we can keep up with Tim. How did you say he became a Transmitter again?"

Wendy stood and the two doctors left the dining room arm in arm, chatting as if they'd been friends since childhood. Of all the ways he'd imagined those two meeting, this certainly hadn't been one of them. He'd assumed they'd both be professional and that Wendy wouldn't have a problem yielding authority to Kristin since it had been her idea to relinquish the CMO position. He expected it to be a little awkward and uncomfortable while everyone transitioned; that was normal. But that they'd be sleeping in the same house (_his!_) while off-duty, and become fast friends in less than an hour? How did women _do_ that?

He decided not to disrupt the estrogen storm brewing in the kitchen and headed for the master bedroom. It was time to call Admiral Noyce.

"Base security found nothing and there's been no ransom call. How do you know O'Neill didn't just take off on a road trip? He _is_ on leave, you know."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Because I've got a telepathic Chief Psychologist who's talked to him, Bill! Would I be bugging you on a whim?"

"So where is he?"

"Could _you_ tell where _you_ were if you'd been knocked unconscious, stuffed in a car, and kept blindfolded? Lucas is going to help me track when we get the call and I've got Brody standing by to go in after him. It's Major Slate and he's not even pretending he's going to let him live."

"You think he wants _you_?"

"He could have killed O'Neill and gotten away by now. He's using him as bait."

"And you have no idea why?"

"Overbeck is my only clue, but I can't imagine he hates me this much just because I wouldn't be his yes-man."

"Don't be too sure. I heard a lot of stories floating around while he was in prison. From what I hear, you're the only one who ever defied the man and kept your command."

"He ordered me to violate human rights, Bill! That's not insubordination, that's following the Geneva Convention!"

Bill shrugged. "He thought he was a king instead of an admiral."

"He thought he was _God_."

His old friend shook a finger at him. "Yes, and gods hold grudges, Nathan. For a very long time. You be careful."

"I plan to. But I'm really getting tired of delivering this guy to 'Justice' and having 'Justice' drop the ball."

"Slate or Overbeck?"

"Are either one of them in jail right now?"

"You've made your point. Let me know if you need anything from me."

"Actually, I've bombed twice in Congress now. Why don't you go play beggar-boy while I'm dealing with this."

"You didn't bomb. Everyone said you were eloquent and inspiring."

Another eye-roll. "Eloquent and inspiring but they still voted against me. Your turn."

An exasperated sigh. "Oh, all right. But they don't like me as much as they like you."

"Good, go wear them down so they'll be more apt to listen when I come back."

"Just how many shots do you think you get at this?"

Nathan grinned. "I'm a hero, remember? They can't deny me the podium or I might go to the press."

"Maybe the press wouldn't be a bad idea. But you didn't hear that from me."

Nathan waved him off and disconnected the call. He'd set up the vid-link to give priority to incoming calls, but he still didn't want any possibility of missing the important one because of a queue in call-waiting. There was no point in calling Brody yet. He didn't have anything new to tell him. Nathan paced the bedroom, grunting to himself as he contemplated and strategized. He lost track of time and couldn't have said how long it had been when there was a light rap on the door.

"Nathan? Would you care to join us for tea or coffee?" Kristin asked.

He wouldn't have gone looking for it himself, but he had to admit it was a welcome break. "Coffee for me, thanks," he said as he moved toward the door.

Kristin and Wendy had set up a veritable buffet in the living room—sandwiches, sliced fruit and cheese, and something that looked like scones or muffins, but not quite bakery quality. It wasn't the variety of foods usually available in the mess hall on _seaQuest,_ but a lot more than he'd expected. "Where'd all this come from?" he asked, sweeping his arm over the spread.

"You've got to keep your strength up, Captain," Wendy said.

He smirked at her. "That doesn't answer my question."

Kristin handed him a steaming cup. "What, do you think Lucas and I just sat around all day while you were off giving speeches? We went shopping at the exchange and then we did a little baking." She looked supremely pleased with herself. "Every bachelor should know how to cook."

Nathan picked up a scone and turned to Lucas. "_You_ made these?"

Lucas grabbed one himself. "Yep." He took a huge bite and then said, "With Dr. Westphalen's help." The doctor's name was terribly butchered with his mouth so full.

Nathan bit into his, chewed and swallowed. "Not bad. Now all we have to do is teach _Chef_ Wolenczak there some table manners."

Lucas gave him that 'go-ahead-and-try-but-I-will-thwart-you' look. At least he wasn't thinking about Slate trying to kill him.

They ate and made some quiet small talk, but no one was up to much frivolity. A knock sounded and everyone jumped. Nathan took a deep breath, stood, and went to the door. An MP stood there. "Captain Bridger?"

"Yes?"

The MP held a small box wrapped in brown paper. "This came for you by FedEx. Since you put us on alert, we did a background check on the courier, had the bomb dogs sniff it out, and ran every scan possible. It appears to be nothing more than an old-fashioned jump drive—you know, to hold a computer file. I'm supposed to ask if you want to open it yourself." He lifted the box a little.

Nathan looked at the return address area. It said simply George Slate. "Yes, I'll take it."

The MP handed it to him. "FedEx said it was left in a flashrate box in Jacksonville about two hours ago. The label was purchased a week ago in a Miami vending machine, paid by cash. They said they could probably get surveillance video of the buyer."

"No point. We already know Slate bought it. No one cares where he was a week ago." And if his suspicions were correct, this meant there wouldn't be a vid-link call that could be traced to find out where he was now. _Damn_.

The MP nodded and took a step back. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

"No. Thank you." He closed the door and ripped into the box. It was indeed a jump drive. "Lucas, does your fancy new portable have a USB slot?"

The teen shook his head. "No, but I have a converter. Let me go get it." He left the living room. Nathan heard him rummaging in his duffel. He returned with some electronic doo-dad and cables and started plugging into his computer. He looked up. "What?"

The captain smiled. "Nothing. Just surprised you have something so old-fashioned."

"Yeah, well, it's coming in handy, isn't it? You never know what someone else will have that I need to interface with."

Nathan couldn't help but think how impressed he was. Lucas couldn't possibly ever need a USB connector for games or entertainment. It had to be for dealing with antiquated computer systems on colonies or older submarines. He was collecting tools for _work_, not just for his amusement. He handed him the jump drive and patted him on the shoulder as he took up a position behind him, watching his tiny computer screen.

Wendy and Kristin were standing now and looked like they wanted to see too, but there was no more room. "Can we patch this into the vid-screen, pal?"

Lucas didn't even think about it. "Sure. No problem." He clicked on the keyboard and used the wireless connection in the house to transfer his monitor signal to the large screen hanging on the living room wall. There was just one file on the jump drive. It was labeled "instructions".

Nathan drew a deep breath. "Let's see what he wants." He nodded to Lucas.

Lucas clicked on the file. Slate's voice narrated over a blank screen. "Your lieutenant is unharmed for the moment. I want you and the Wolenczak boy to come alone to these coordinates." Kristin and Wendy both gasped when Lucas's name was mentioned. Lucas didn't flinch. A map from one of the online direction finders appeared on the screen, showing a road route, satellite coordinates of the destination, and written directions.

The map disappeared and staticky video footage appeared. Nathan felt rather then heard everyone gasp as they saw O'Neill sitting sideways on a car's back seat with the door opened. Dark glasses like what the blind often wore were pulled off his face and Tim squinted into the light. His arms were bound and it was obvious he couldn't focus on Slate. The camera panned down to the newspaper in Tim's lap, showing Miami's headline.

Tim stated his name, rank, and serial number in a monotone voice and then Slate yelled at him for not looking into the camera. O'Neill said he couldn't see the camera and Slate decked him. He fell over, into the car's floor. The lady doctors both winced and looked away from the screen. Luckily, the video footage ended. Nathan felt a flashback of that same helplessness he'd felt in Beauregard's prison.

A time twelve hours from now showed on the screen while Slate spoke: "Or I start chopping off fingers." The screen went blank again. Nobody spoke or seemed to breathe for a long time. Lucas was the first to move. He started clicking on his keyboard. The computer display flashed incomprehensibly between screens as he worked. Nathan had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed important, so he didn't interrupt.

Lucas sighed. "Slate used a Nikon video recorder and he made this file on a Dell computer manufactured in 2020. There are hundreds of thousands of these out there. There's nothing here to help us find them."

"What about the jump drive?"

Some more clicking. "Still being manufactured in less-developed countries that are behind us in computer technology. This one is about two years old, from the Montagnard Confederation."

Kristin spoke. "But why use an old USB drive? The Nikon had to have a memory chip. Why not just send that?"

Lucas shrugged. "Maybe he didn't know how to add the map and directions without putting the chip into his computer."

"Maybe he was afraid the chip was too small and might get lost?" Wendy offered.

"And maybe he just did it to confuse us. Let's not assume anything."

"I'm going with you," Lucas said evenly.

"Where?"

"To the coordinates."

"Oh no you're not."

"Tim saved my life too. I owe him that much."

"Tim wouldn't want either one of us to walk into a trap, kiddo. Let's just concentrate on getting him out."

"There's no reason to believe Slate is holding Tim at this rendezvous point," Kristin said.

"You're right. Using this FedEx delivery was all about keeping us from tracking a call. He's not going to move Tim there until it's time."

"I don't think he has any intention of moving Tim there at all," Wendy said gravely.

"What do you mean, Doctor?"

"Didn't you notice? He never promised to give him up. He never said, 'If you want to see him alive' or any of the normal ransom rhetoric. He _knows_ you're not going to come. He doesn't think you'll do anything until a few of those fingers get delivered. This location is bogus. Even if you went, he wouldn't be there."

"Are you sure?" Kristin asked.

Wendy had that faraway look on her face. She turned to Kristin and nodded. "I'm sure."

"We've got to get him out of there," Kristin said.

"Out of where? We have no idea where he is!" Nathan said, his anger and frustration manifesting in his voice.

Suddenly, Wendy snapped out of her reflection. She smiled at Nathan and her eyes lit up. "I know how to find him!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"It requires Tim allowing Mary into his head, but he let me do it when we were worried he was a security risk. And this is life and death."

"Wait a second," Lucas said. "If Mary can find Tim now, why did we have to sink all our watches when we were lost at sea?"

Wendy turned to Lucas and answered him patiently. "She's not a GPS, Lucas. She'll just be able to describe what she sees around him. When you were in the lifeboat, all she would have seen was water in every direction. It wouldn't have helped. Here, with any luck, she'll be able to see street names and landmarks."

"Do it!" Nathan said.

Even Kristin looked happy. Wendy could see now why everyone on _seaQuest_ missed her so much. She was opinionated and assertive, but she was also very compassionate and protective. Wendy didn't think _she_ would ever have been able to convince Lucas to make scones with _her_. And even though Kristin could have easily been wary of Wendy both professionally and personally, she didn't seem at all threatened. _She_ had been the one to invite Wendy to stay overnight in their home.

"Give me a minute to ask her in private, then I'll put her on speakers so we can all try to decipher what she sees."

"Speakers?" Nathan said with a chuckle. "I thought I was the only one with a voice-only cell."

"She has a vid-link, but she doesn't normally use the camera. Is it a problem?"

The captain shrugged. He probably _wanted_ to see her because reading body language was part of his job, but he also respected her enough that he wasn't going to push the issue. She wasn't military personnel that he could order. He shook his head. "No. She's on our side and I want her to be comfortable."

Wendy nodded. She pulled out her mobile vid-link and scrolled through recent calls. She'd called her mother from the plane to tell her not to pick her up at the airport. It was a good thing her mother was an admiral and understood how these things came up. They hadn't seen each other in over a year, but she wholeheartedly agreed that Wendy should go meet her captain instead. Mother might think Nathan was pretentious, but she knew he was a very good naval officer. Mary's number was at the top of the auto-connect list.

Her friend's usual floral default image had been replaced with a painting of a clipper ship. It looked vaguely familiar, like it was probably famous and Wendy had seen it in a museum or one of her art appreciation classes from high school. Usually, the moment Mary saw Wendy's incoming ID, she'd connect telepathically to talk. But this time she whispered over the vid-link instead. "Tim's asleep."

Wendy whispered back, "Slate didn't call us. He used FedEx to send a recording. We can't track him. We need you to go into his mind. If you make a full connection, you can see where he is."

"Can I wait for him to wake up on his own to ask him?"

"You know full well that he needs to be asleep. Hard enough to connect with the distance between you and not having physical contact."

"I can't do it without permission, Wendy! He'd hate me."

"Would you rather Slate chops off his finger? Tim has really good walls. You won't see anything he doesn't want you to see. I'll take the blame if he's bothered at all. In fact, Captain Bridger would like to listen when you start describing the location. You could tell Tim he ordered it."

"Tim's not stupid. He knows Captain Bridger can't order me to do anything."

"Tim has done things he wouldn't normally do to protect others. He'll understand."

"You mean like calling the captain impotent?"

"He _told_ you about that?"

Mary's whispers got sarcastic. "No, I found it on the Internex. Of course he told me. He still has nightmares about it."

Wendy hadn't talked to any of the crew in a while, but since her own nightmares hadn't stopped, she couldn't expect anyone else's would have. It was a little odd that Tim's nightmares focused on his own actions and not the horrendous things done _to_ him. Still, this was very personal and if Tim told Mary, he felt closer to her than Wendy had realized. "Did he tell you what _I_ did to save his hearing?"

"No. He's very tight-lipped when it comes to you."

Wendy recognized that tone. Mary thought there was something going on between her and Tim. Well, something _had_ happened, just not what she was probably thinking. And Tim, bless him, had kept quiet out of respect for Wendy's privacy. She'd have to explain, but there wasn't time right now. "Remind me when this is over to tell you about it. Suffice it to say I know from experience that he won't hold this against you."

"Slate is really going to chop off a finger?"

"Yes. And he intends to kill him too. We have to find out where he is. Now."

"Okay, I'll do it."

"I'm going to put the call on the captain's home monitor. I already told him you were camera-shy. You don't have to explain."

"Thanks, Wendy."

Wendy looked up from her portable device. Nathan, Kristin, and Lucas were having a quiet discussion on the other side of the room. "Lucas, can you patch my vid-link into the wall?"

"You go it," he said. The teen brought a cable that connected her portable into the home system. He punched a button and the clipper ship appeared on the wall screen.

Wendy knew their camera was on even if Mary's wasn't. She gestured as she spoke, "Mary, this is Lucas."

Lucas waved at the static picture on the wall. "Hi, Mary."

"And Captain Bridger and his fiancée, Dr. Westphalen."

The two of them nodded. "Thank you for helping us," Nathan said.

"You're welcome, Captain," Mary said, finally abandoning her whispers. "Give me a few minutes to get into Tim's dream. This is a little harder than just talking to him."

Wendy saw the confused looks on Nathan and Kristin's faces. She attempted an explanation: "It's like the difference between calling someone on a radio and taking their picture. On the radio, you don't have to know where they are as long as they have the right equipment. But you can't take a picture unless you find them first."

"Yes, Wendy's right. And I couldn't do this at all except that we've already had telepathic contact a few minutes ago. I'm attempting to trace my own brainwaves back."

Nathan gave Wendy a questioning look. He wanted to know whether Mary was capable of doing this. Wendy nodded reassuringly. Mary wouldn't have been so worried about violating Tim's mind if she wasn't sure she could get there.

Everyone was silent for what seemed eternity. Wendy started to doubt whether it would work when Mary's voice came back. "I'm there."

They all released held breaths. "What do you see?" Wendy asked.

"It's very dark. No lights. No moon."

"Moon? Is he outside?" Nathan asked.

"He's still in the car. I can't tell what color it is. Let me see if I can get the license number."

Wendy knew she couldn't just zip around on brainwaves unless she was going all the way back to her own body. Consciousness floated around and the best she could do was to nudge the drifting in the direction she wanted. Mary recited a plate number and Lucas wrote it down. "Can you see what street he's on?"

Mary sighed. "It's so dark. I don't think there's a street. Maybe a dirt road. Lots of trees and bushes. He's in a heavily wooded area."

"Do you see any sign of Slate?" Nathan asked. "A house where he might be staying?"

"Everything is black. There's nothing close to the car except trees. Do you want me to stay here and hope Slate comes out with a flashlight or try again at dawn?"

"He has no reason to check on Tim in the middle of the night," Nathan grumbled. "He may not even be close."

"You should rest, Mary. You can try in the morning." It was only five hours until sun-up. With any luck, Tim would still be asleep.

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you for trying," Kristin said.

"I'll call you when it gets light," Wendy said.

"I'll be here."

Wendy disconnected the call. "Sorry, Captain, I didn't think about the light problem."

"No. It's okay. There's still plenty of time. I think Lucas and I should get on the train though—give the appearance that we're going to meet his demands."

Lucas smiled.

Kristin shook her finger at Nathan. "Don't you dare make it any easier for this man to kill you before we get married."

He smiled and took her hand. "We'll be careful. I promise."

"Yeah, I won't let him do anything stupid," Lucas said with tongue in cheek.

Kristin, Wendy, and Nathan all laughed. Lucas smiled, but Wendy could feel an undercurrent of truth in his joke. He _would_ try to protect his captain if he possibly could.

"On second thought," Nathan said, looking back and forth between Wendy and Kristin, "why don't you both come with us? I want Wendy to be close when Mary tries again and Tim is going to need a doctor when we've rescued him. This is Navy business, so we can check out something from the motorpool. With four of us to drive, no one should get too tired."

"Oh, so you want us to help drive then," Kristin remarked.

"And patch everyone up," Wendy added.

Nathan wasn't biting. "Isn't that what doctors _do_?"

Kristin gave him a look that Wendy decided she needed to learn. Her eyes very clearly said, _you may be the captain but I can handle you_. She crossed her arms. "We'd much rather you didn't need patching to begin with."

Nathan raised his hands in surrender. "Wait a minute. I'm not the one clocking O'Neill in the face. And technically, I'm not even responsible for him because he's on leave."

Kristin rolled her eyes at him. "Yes. You're so 'not responsible' that you're heading out at 1AM with a seventeen-year-old in tow, rushing into a rendezvous you _know_ is a trap."

Nathan smirked. "You're welcome to wait here."

"Like hell I will. Someone's got to keep an eye on you two."

Wendy chuckled. "I'm with you, too."

"Okay." The captain went into full command mode, delegating and directing just like he did on _seaQuest_. "Wendy, you should sleep first. You have to get up early to interface with Mary and you've been stuck on a plane all day. I'm exhausted, so I'm going to sleep too. Who slept later, Kristin, you or Lucas?"

"He did," Kristin said, "but I had a nap. I'll drive first."

"Fine, but no one drives without someone else to talk to. Lucas?"

"I'll keep her on the right side of the road," Lucas said. Kristin punched him affectionately on the shoulder. He recoiled, grinning like mad.

"Everyone pack light. Let's bring some of those scones and anything else that doesn't need refrigeration."

"I'll get the food together," Kristin said.

Nathan had a car delivered in less than fifteen minutes and the CPO who handed him the keys apologized for taking so long.

"You said you were going to give the appearance you were going to meet him," Wendy said in a low volume. "But he's hundreds of miles away. How will he even know you've left?"

Nathan pointed to the FedEx package. His name and the correct navy base were both in the address. "How did he know where I lived when I only moved in two days ago?"

"Overbeck," Wendy gasped. "But how? He's been forced into retirement and I thought he was living in Hawaii."

"I don't know how or who. But _someone_ is watching us. I'd appreciate that sixth sense of yours looking out for anything suspicious."

Wendy nodded. She opened up her feelings, but only caught the usual background noise. They loaded up the car and left. Wendy satisfied herself that Kristin could handle driving in the States and that Lucas would keep her awake. The two of them were actually having a grand time in the front seat, although neither of them had deluded themselves into thinking this was a vacation. Nathan fell asleep with his head on the window. Wendy couldn't help feeling strange. "Kristin," she whispered when Lucas hit a quiet point. "Are you all right with me back here with Nathan?"

She scoffed and Wendy could tell that her feelings were genuine. "When Nathan first told me how close you were, I admit I was a little jealous. But he told me about the misunderstanding in Hydroponics and he told me that his feelings were not strictly professional, but they're not romantic. I wouldn't have asked him to marry me if I didn't believe him."

"Wait," Lucas interrupted. "_You_ asked _him_ to marry you?"

Kristin chuckled. "Yes, I do believe that's what happened. But you probably shouldn't tell him I told you that." Lucas started laughing. Kristin turned to Wendy. "And unless you have some special power to hide your feelings, I don't think you have any designs on him either."

Wendy smiled. "No, I don't have any designs on him. I think the two of you are a very good match. I just wanted to be sure you knew that. It would be awkward for us to work together and live on the same submarine if you felt threatened by me."

"I know you didn't have to give up Chief Medical Officer to study psychology. I think Nathan knows it too. We both appreciate what you've done for us."

"Well, don't make me out to be _that_ virtuous. Nathan wasn't the only person on _seaQuest_ who missed you—personally or professionally. The science department needs you just as much as Medbay."

"Oh, we haven't told anyone yet. Dr. Joshua Levin is going to co-head the science department with me."

"Yessss," Lucas said loudly enough to make Nathan stir in his sleep.

"I offered to give him the job by himself, but he's a little intimidated with the idea. So I'll be signing papers and taking the heat until he gains enough confidence to do it alone."

"Men," Wendy muttered.

"Exactly," Kristin echoed, laughing. "Oh, and back to your original question, anyone who will hold Nathan's hands and share the pain of forty lashes has damn-well earned the right to sleep next to him, sitting upright in a moving car with my eye on the rear-view mirror the whole way."

_In other words, don't invite every pretty crewman to do it, but go ahead_. "Thank you," Wendy whispered.

"No. Thank _you_."

So she knew Wendy had saved his life on If. She wasn't even sure Nathan knew. He'd been extremely thankful just for her help with the pain. He probably didn't even realize how close he'd come to dying. But Kristin was an excellent doctor, one who Wendy was happy to relinquish Medbay to. And as much as she was looking forward to digging deep into psychology and parapsychology, she was also looking forward to reaping the benefits of having a medical mentor whose years of experience she could learn from. If only they could keep everyone safe long enough to get back on _seaQuest_, the next tour was going to be exciting.

Wendy drifted off to sleep with her head on the opposite window. Either because she was so exhausted or because the ride was so monotonous, she felt fairly well-rested when Nathan pressed his hand against her shoulder and spoke gently. "Wendy?"

She blinked. It was just light enough to see. "I'm up." She yawned. "Where are we?"

Lucas and Kristin had traded places in the front seat. Wendy wondered how they'd done it without her waking. While she wouldn't have put it past Lucas to try switching while speeding down the highway, she couldn't imagine the very practical Dr. Westphalen agreeing to something so dangerous.

"We just passed the South Carolina state line," Lucas announced.

"Can you call Mary now?" Nathan asked, still speaking softly.

Knowing Mary, she'd looked up the precise time for sunrise in Florida and set her clock to wake her ten minutes before that, then sat there, staring at the vid-link. If Wendy waited any longer, Mary would be Transmitting a hundred-bugle version of 'Reveille' straight into her mind. "Of course, Captain." She stretched once and then pulled out her vid-link. She pressed the button to auto-connect. It didn't even ring before Mary's clipper painting flashed onto the screen.

"'Bout time," Mary said.

"Hey, I spent all day yesterday on a plane and I slept in a car with a crazy seventeen-year-old driving." Wendy winked as Lucas gave her a dirty look in the rear-view mirror.

"Well, Tim hasn't had the best night either," Mary said. "And I'm sorry, but I just couldn't wait. I've already checked on him."

"Is he still asleep?" Nathan asked.

"Asleep yes, but not 'still'. He didn't exactly sleep well with his arms tied like they are."

"Understandable. Go on. What can you see?"

"Lots of trees."

"Oranges maybe?" The search radius Lucas came up with was almost all in Florida and the state still grew a lot of oranges outdoors.

"No. The trees aren't planted in rows. It's too dense for an orchard. I've backed away in a couple different directions, trying to find a building or a road and I just keep getting lost in the trees. I can't get my bearings when I lose sight of the car."

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. Wendy could feel him doing his best to stave off frustration.

"I've got an idea," Mary said. "I'm going to try a bird's eye view."

"You can fly?" Lucas asked. He was getting so interested that he pulled off the road and stopped the car so he could give the conversation his full attention.

Mary chuckled. "It's not really me, just my consciousness. But that's a good thing because I'm terrified of heights."

Wendy was pretty sure it would still be hard. Irrational fears didn't always listen when confronted with the logic that her body wasn't really there.

"I still can't see any roads. Wait. I see one, but from this height, I have no way of seeing a sign, and that's assuming there is one. This really looks like the boonies to me."

"You should be right at home then," Wendy said.

"Ha, ha," Mary said sarcastically. "I may not have neighbors, but the road comes all the way to the house and I don't park my car in the dirt."

"Let's not assume there's a house," Nathan said. "Don't assume anything. Just tell us what you see."

"I still see tons of trees and just one road. Nothing distinctive about the road either. Pulling up higher…"

"Can you still see Tim?" Kristin asked.

"I'm going straight up. I can't see the car that well, but I know where he is in relation to everything else because he's directly below. Oh, wow."

"Wow what?" Wendy and Lucas asked together.

"I think it's an airport."

Nathan snapped his fingers. "Of course! Slate's a pilot. If he can stash Tim somewhere and walk to an airport, he can fly off wherever he likes to send a jumpdrive or go to a rendezvous. That way, even if we figured out what car he was driving, it wouldn't do us any good. Mary, what can you tell us about the airport?"

"Just a second, Captain."

Nathan shot a deadly look at Wendy. They were finally getting somewhere and he wasn't in the mood to be told to wait. Wendy shrugged and gave him a pleading look of her own. Mary wouldn't be taking a coffee break at a time like this.

The vid-link was silent for a long moment. Wendy was beginning to worry that Mary's fear of heights had frozen her. Wendy had never tried to make her consciousness gain altitude like that while dreamwalking. Could she lose control and crash? "Mary?" Wendy whispered. "Are you okay?"

"There!" Mary said. The clipper ship dissolved into a pencil-drawn map. "Tim is at the star in the center. You see the sun? I assume that's east. The other lines are roads, but they're not super-highways or anything. I think matching up the runways to satellite images is your best bet."

Wendy turned the vid-link screen to face Nathan. His eyes widened and his smile followed. "Mary, this is brilliant! Lucas?" Nathan turned the screen so the teen could see the map.

Lucas looked and nodded. "I should be able to match that up as long as it's fairly accurate and nothing is distorted."

"It's very close, Lucas," Mary said. "I didn't draw the trees, but almost everything white is forested area. The squares are buildings or maybe cars. I'm up pretty high, so I can't tell what things are from here."

Lucas connected his portable computer to Wendy's vid-link and captured the map. Then he started clicking like crazy on the keyboard. Wendy couldn't see what he was doing, but he had to be comparing satellite maps to Mary's. "Got it!" he called. "I've got a 99.8% match to Lake City Municipal Airport. The next closest thing is only 41% and it's in Oregon. Assuming Slate never put Tim in a plane while he was unconscious, he's definitely in Osceola National Forest, about 60 miles west of Jacksonville."

"Tell Tim I'm sending Brody in immediately," Nathan said, barely holding back his giddiness.

"I will," Mary promised.

"That's two we owe you, Mary. Thank you."

"Not at all. Glad I could help, Captain."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Tim's arms ached with stiffness but he managed to work the sunglasses off his face without the use of his hands. All he could see out the windows were fuzzy green blobs. Mary said they were trees. No reason to doubt it. He manipulated his shoes off and tried to work open the door handles with his toes, but there was some kind of childsafe mechanism that didn't allow any of the backseat controls to work. He would have tried to find the driver's controls, but a car this new probably wouldn't release the childsafe blocks without a numeric code. While he might be able to punch the keypad with his nose, he couldn't try the zillions of combinations possible, nor could he see the numbers well enough to know whether he was repeating any of his attempts.

_Relax, Tim. Didn't you say Lieutenant Brody was the best? He'll get you out of there_, Mary reassured him.

Tim was trying not to be negative, but he was so miserable. His arms were the worst, but he was tired and thirsty, not to mention, he really needed to take a leak. How embarrassing would it be if nature overrode his bladder control before Brody got here? _Just once, I'd like to be the rescue-er instead of the rescue-ee_. His mindvoice was somewhat whiney, but he couldn't help it.

_Oh, come on. You rescued Captain Bridger and Lucas the last time. You got a medal for it, if I remember correctly._

Since Tim didn't think he told her about that, he figured it must have been Wendy. _Yeah, but I still ended up having to be rescued and rushed to the hospital. _Helpless and Lucas ever needed more rescuing than him! That's what the military was for, darnit, to protect civilians and kids and such. But Mary didn't need to hear his whining. _Sorry, I'm feeling kind of helpless right now_.

_I know. You don't have to apologize. I'm the one hanging around like an unwanted houseguest._

_No, it's not you. It's me. Can we talk about something else?_

_Sure. What do you want talk about?_

_You know a lot about me, but I don't know very much about you. _Okay, so it was a bit of emotional blackmail. He'd asked her before and she'd always changed the subject. Very subtly, mind you, never adamant. She'd been so easy to talk to and interesting that he welcomed any subject she brought up. Now he was being held captive by a guy who was very serious about killing him. Mary was too sensitive a soul not to feel at least _some_ pity.

_Uh, what do you want to know?_

Most girls had this huge prepared monologue of stuff they were dying to share and all you had to do was give them the slightest opening and it spilled out like a bursting dam. He gave her an open invitation and she faltered? _How about what time zone you live in? What you do for a living? _He had several other burning questions, but he didn't want to overwhelm her.

She chuckled. _Central, but I hardly ever worry about what a clock says. I make my own schedule, eat when I'm hungry, and sleep when I'm tired._

_Oh, so you __**do**__ sleep then_, Tim teased.

_Probably more than __**you**__ do, Mr. Double Shifts_.

_I bet I'd sleep more if I had lullabies like I got last night._

_Yeah, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's putting people to sleep._

_I—I meant that in a good way. _Her humming had been so soft and hypnotic. Why couldn't he just say that?Why did it seem too corny to just say he'd been comforted and soothed by her mindvoice?

_Well, good. But I __**do**__ put people to sleep. You see, I'm a writer. People often read right before bed, so in a sense, I put them to sleep._

_But they want to go to sleep, right? Sleep is a good thing._

_True. Besides, as long as they buy the books, who cares what they use them for? They make good door stops_.

Tim didn't know anyone who bought paper books anymore. Trees were too precious to waste on books. He only had a few special keepsakes in paper. The rest of his library was on memory chips for electronic readers. But people didn't buy just any bit of fluff at paper's prices. _Books as door stops? That's repugnant! _

She chuckled._ I'm kidding._

_You must be doing all right though._

_It pays the bills._

That had to be modesty talking. Still, he'd never seen her name, so perhaps… wait, she might use a pen name. If he asked what she wrote and he'd never heard of it, would that make her feel bad? But if he didn't ask, would she think he didn't care? Tim drew a deep breath and tried to sound casual. _So what's your biggest title?_

_Quantum Syndicate._

_Quantum Syndicate? __**You're**__ Natasha Nightshade?_

Mary heaved a deep sigh_. No. I __**ghostwrite**__ for Natasha Nightshade. The picture they put on the cover flap is a woman hired by my publisher. She's an actress playing the part of a mystery writer. I write the books. She goes to book signings and talk shows and she accepts any awards the books might earn. _

_But that's so unfair. You're doing all the work!_

_She works too. I probably wouldn't have made the bestseller list without Nancy, er, Natasha. She had her name legally changed. She really __**is**__ Natasha Nightshade now. I'm just Mary Sue Watkins._

_Did she write any of the books?_

_Not so much as a comma._

_She's just a poser then. I have at least six of your books. I love them._

_You're so sweet, Tim. And I'm glad you like the books. Please don't tell anyone that Natasha has a ghostwriter. I'm in breach of contract to even tell __**you**__. I would forfeit all royalties if it ever got out._

_Your secret is safe with me. It goes in the file with military secrets, okay? Wow. I can't believe— wait, I hear something. He's coming._ He wished he could control the fear in his voice. The lock mechanism clicked and then the door opened. He couldn't identify him by looks, but the fact he had the remote key and the way he grabbed him and jerked him up made it pretty clear this was Slate.

"Your captain friend is coming."

"I know." He realized belatedly that he shouldn't have sounded so sure. "That should tell you something. How many traitors would care about some underling? If Captain Bridger was really what you think he is, he'd just let you kill me."

"He doesn't give a damn about _you_! He's coming because he wants _me_. Because I know what he is."

Tim shook his head. "You're wrong. I won't argue that I'm not a traitor. Technically, I _did_ betray _seaQuest_. I was tortured until I spilled the bridge command codes. The captain didn't think it was humanly possible to resist, so he stood up for me. _He_ didn't do anything wrong. He's not a traitor; **_I _**am. He's coming for me like he'd come for any member of his crew, right down to the lowest Seaman. And if you think he'll ever let you near Lucas, you're really deluded."

He saw the blurry hand coming this time, but he had no way to avoid the blow that knocked him over. Yes, it hurt, but it was pretty tame next to Beauregard's cat-o-nines. He didn't have to fake his outcry, but he did have to enhance it some. Didn't want an excuse for him to keep at it. He remained where he landed, panting a few seconds. "Uh, look. I know you're going to kill me anyway, but if you don't want this car to reek, you really need to let me use a toilet."

"I'm not untying you."

Tim rolled his eyes. _Like I can feel my hands anyway_. "Whatever."

"You should thank me for the lack of circulation in your hands. It'll make it easier later."

_He's planning to chop off fingers, Tim_, Mary whispered. He forgot she was still there, able to hear through him.

_Peachy_, he Transmitted to her.

Slate yanked him back up, this time all the way to standing. He shoved him to face the blurry forest and then pulled out what appeared to be a Bowie knife. He waved it in Tim's face which probably would have been more intimidating if Tim could focus on the thing, but as it was, he could just barely identify it. _Yeah, yeah, you have a knife. What, did I look like I was going to try to run?_ Sheesh, how stupid did he look? Arms bound behind his back, no way to see clearly, with his kidnapper standing right there. Tim knew he had a tranquilizer gun at the very least. The knife was extreme overkill.

Slate reached around to his side and employed the knife to cut his belt and the waistband of his pants. He sliced down to about his hip. The ruined pants fell down around his knees. He stood there, holding his head high. He would not let this guy see a shred of embarrassment. If he was going to be embarrassed, it would be when Brody got here. He couldn't decide whether it was worse to be wet or pants-less. It hardly mattered now. The deed was done. Slate walked behind him, grabbed his briefs and pulled them down to meet the pants.

Tim let nature take over and Slate stood behind him, holding the blade to his neck. When he was done, Slate pulled the briefs back up from behind. They didn't feel right, like they would when he could adjust everything properly, but at least his underwear was still intact. He wouldn't have to face Brody literally butt-naked. Speaking of Brody… _Mary, could you ask Wendy if they have an ETA on Lieutenant Brody?_

_Sure, Tim, I'll ask._

_And don't mention what just happened, okay?_

_Your secret is safe with me._


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Wendy sat in the passenger seat while Nathan drove. They had just crossed the state line into Florida. The rendezvous point wasn't far. She wasn't sure if Nathan was going to try to meet Slate or not. When he recorded the message, Slate didn't intend to come, but he assumed Nathan wouldn't come either and Nathan had turned the tables on that. There was no telling what either might do now. The only thing she was sure of was that Nathan would never let Lucas enter a dangerous situation.

The vid-link in the car dashboard buzzed. "It's Jim's ID," Wendy said.

"Put him on," the captain ordered. Wendy pushed the button so Nathan didn't have to let go of the steering wheel. It was designed so driver and passenger could both operate it with ease. "Status report, Lieutenant?"

"Our jet copter just landed at Lake City Airport. We have three submariners and six SEALs."

"Who do you have from _seaQuest_?"

"Piccolo, Ortiz, and me."

"Ortiz? I thought he went home to Cuba."

"He did, sir. I only called him because I thought he should know what was going on, being Tim's friend and all. I didn't ask him to come. He caught the first flight from Havana and got here before you knew where to send us."

"All right. Stand by until we know for sure Slate is on his way to meet us before you head to the forest coordinates."

"Shouldn't we split up so some of us can catch this guy?"

"Not until we're certain O'Neill is out of danger." Nathan let go of the steering wheel to point his index finger at Brody's image. "You be extremely careful in looking for booby traps, Lieutenant. This guy already crashed a historical plane and killed a man on the _Key West_. He's capable of anything."

"Understood, sir. Standing by for your orders."

Nathan flicked the vid-link off. "Lucas," he called over his shoulder. "Have you tracked that license plate yet?"

"Yes, sir. Sunshine Rent-a-Car. I used their customer service live chat and got the GPS tracking code. It's right where Mary told us it was." He had a map up on his portable computer screen that looked very close to what Mary had sketched. A green light blinked in the same spot where Mary's star had been. A faint electronic beep sounded with every blink.

"They just _gave_ you that information?"

"Well, I told them I was you, but yeah."

The captain smiled. "Good thinking."

_Wendy?_ It was Mary's mind-voice.

_I'm here. What's up?_

_I did something stupid. Slate was being all cryptic, telling Tim he should be thankful that he couldn't feel his hands and I told him he was planning to cut off fingers. I just blurted it out without thinking._

_Calm down. Worrying about getting fingers cut off is no worse than worrying about getting killed and Slate already covered that._

_How close is your rescue team?_

_They're at the airport, just waiting to hear that Tim is alone so they can go in. Brody is the best, Mary. He's gone into much worse situations and he's never failed. He's got two of Tim's friends and a half-dozen SEALs. It's going to be all right. You say Slate is talking to him now?_

_I'm not sure if he's left yet. He punched him again, let him relieve himself, and told him that the captain was coming. How does Slate know that?_

_We'd like to know that too. He clearly has someone watching us, but I haven't felt anything._

"The car's moving," Lucas announced.

"What?" Kristin and Nathan both said at the same time. Wendy didn't even know Kristin was awake.

"Is Tim still in it?" Kristin asked. She was facing Wendy, not Lucas.

_Mary, is Tim still in the car?_

_Just a second. Tim?_ Mary didn't disconnect the link, so Wendy would hear when Tim answered.

_Slate is taking me somewhere. He was going to knock me out again, but I told him the tranquilizers gave me a headache and begged him to just tie me up instead. He got really happy with a roll of duct tape. He taped my legs, mouth, and eyes, but at least I can still Transmit. When is Brody getting here?_

_He's at the airport_, Wendy said, _but we thought Slate would leave you there when he went to meet the captain. Let me update him and I'll let you know what the new plan is_.

"He's in the car," Wendy reported to her traveling companions. "He convinced Slate to leave him conscious, but it cost him."

"Please don't tell me he's already cutting off fingers," Kristin said somberly.

Wendy shook her head. "Not yet. But now his legs are immobilized and his mouth and eyes are taped."

"Good," Nathan said.

"Good?" Kristin questioned in a rather scathing tone. Wendy had been thinking the same thing, but she probably wouldn't have been quite so scathing, assuming she'd had the guts to question his assessment at all.

Nathan was cool and calm when he explained: "He's giving Slate the illusion that he's superior, in charge, and controlling everything. He'll be more likely to make a mistake if he's overconfident."

_Captain Bridger is impressed with the way you're handling this, Tim. He says, "Good job."_ Okay, so he didn't say 'job', but close enough. Tim had to be scared and he needed the encouragement.

_**Handling** this?_ Tim laughed. _I don't have a lot of choice._

_You were smart enough to talk him out of the tranquilizers,_ Mary said.

_We have the car on a GPS locator,_ Wendy added._ You don't need to see._

_Um, are there any cliffs around here? He could just drive off of one with me back here and bail out of the car like he did the __**Fifi**__._

_No, there are no cliffs, Tim!_ Mary said in something approaching reprimand. _We are not going to let him kill you, so just think positive_.

_Yes, ma'am._

Wendy would have to remember to thank Mary when Tim wasn't listening. The captain had hit the vid-link button that reconnected the last caller and was talking to Brody again. He'd just finished relaying the car's plate number.

"Whatever you do, don't let him put O'Neill on a plane. If he'll leave his hostage behind, then let him get away. We still need him to testify against Overbeck. If all you can get is a stand-off, that's fine. Don't rush him into anything. I'll be there in about an hour. That prospect should make him happy."

"I'll hold him here, sir." Jim's image faded to black.

"What should I tell Tim?" Wendy asked.

"Tell him it may be as much as an hour, but to hold tight."

Wendy heard Mary relaying the message, sounding much more encouraging than Wendy could have been.

"And where will you be leaving Lucas?" Kristin asked Nathan.

"With you two, of course." He turned to Lucas and held up his hand. "Don't even try to argue on this one, pal. Slate may get a couple of career Navy officers, but he is not getting a seventeen-year-old civilian under my care. I need you to take care of the doctors, okay?"

Lucas nodded reluctantly. But Wendy could tell he liked the idea of being put in charge of the safety of the ladies. She couldn't decide who was protecting whom, and that was exactly Nathan's intent, the sly devil.

"And what about _you_?" Kristin demanded. "Who's watching out for you?"

He smirked at first, but when he checked her reflection in his mirror and saw the look in her eyes, he softened. "Lieutenant Brody, Petty Officer Piccolo, Chief Ortiz, and six SEALs. Happy?"

"Not one damned bit."

"Can you trust me?" Wendy could feel how much he wanted to reach out and hold her hand and look straight in her eyes, but it was impossible while driving. His voice, however, carried quite a bit of emotion and she could only hope Kristin could read it.

Kristin folded her arms over her chest and nodded toward the steering column. "You think the keys would still be in that ignition if I didn't?"

Nathan cast a defeated look at Lucas. "She has a point, doesn't she?"

"Good thing she's on our side."

Nathan nodded, but dropped the argument. He had more important things to do. "Lucas, did the rental agency happen to mention if the car has an in-dash vid-link?"

Lucas grinned. "I thought you might ask that. Yes they do. And yes, I got the number. Here." He handed a slip of paper up to the front seat. Wendy took it because Nathan was busy driving.

"Smarty pants," Kristin muttered. She nudged him with her shoulder and he just grinned bigger.

The captain gestured to Wendy. "Well, Doctor, let's see if he'll bite. Angle the camera so he can only see me and then punch up the number."

Wendy knew he had a plan, and she trusted him, but she sure didn't see how this was going to work out now that Slate had Tim with him. Kidnappers who wanted money only gave up their hostages half the time. But Slate had made no secret of intending to kill not only Tim, but Nathan and Lucas too. And he didn't seem the type that could be bought off. "All right," she said as she did what he asked.

It started ringing and everyone in the car held their breaths.

* * *

_**A/N: In case I don't get another chapter up by Saturday: Merry Christmas, everyone.**_


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"I'm glad you found me, Bridger," Tim heard Slate say.

The captain's voice answered through a radio or vid-link, "I'm on my way to meet you, just like you asked. Let's make a deal before this gets any uglier. I can trade my life for O'Neill's, but that's all you're going to get. How about it? A captain for a lieutenant."

Tim winced. He knew the captain was going to do this and he hated it. If someone had to die here, it should be him.

"The deal was two for one."

"I can't give you Wolenczak. He's a minor and a civilian. Let's leave him out of this."

"I could just kill you all right now. There's an explosive device hidden in your car. I blow you up and then I shoot this one and dump him."

Tim's heartbeat quickened. Slate had known way too much about the captain's movements. Whoever was feeding him information could have planted a bomb. Four innocent people were in that car.

_He's lying,_ Wendy's voice said in his head, _there is no bomb_. No doubt she whispered the same thing to the captain.

"You lay one hand on my lieutenant and you will die."

Slate laughed. "You'll be dead. How do you plan to kill me?"

"I didn't say I would be the one to kill you. I have a team of SEALs waiting at Lake City Airport. They have orders not to let you on that plane unless you release your hostage _**alive**__._ Besides, we both know there's no bomb. If you could have killed me sooner, you would have done it. The only person you can kill right now is O'Neill and he's not worth it. If you hurt him, we're not going to arrest you so you can escape again. We shoot to kill. You die. Wolenczak and I live."

Tim heard Slate banging a fist against something hard like the steering wheel or the dashboard.

_Wendy, tell the captain that I think this guy will go suicidal if he thinks he can take the three of us with him. He really believes we're all traitors._

There was a short interval of silence, then he heard the captain's voice on the vid-link again. "There's still a way out of this, Slate. We want you alive to testify against Overbeck. He's the one who's a traitor. He's hated my guts for decades. He cooked all this up just to get to me. Did anyone ever tell you what we supposedly _did_?"

Slate didn't answer for a few seconds. "Colonel Black said the kid hacked into military systems."

"He did. Under _my _orders. He did it to save a colony full of innocent people while Overbeck thought they should be sacrificed to hide some political embarrassment."

"And the World Bank?"

"He never hacked—"

Tim heard mumbling and another pause.

"I did hack the World Bank," Lucas's voice said. "But when someone else was going to take it over, I stopped him. Check my accounts. I don't have a car or an apartment. My mother buys my underwear. Would I let her do that if I had billions in a Swiss bank account? The guy who intended to control everything was Martin Clemmons. He's in the CIA or the FBI or something. His code name is Mycroft. Ask your spy connections. I'm the one who _stopped_ him."

"Your lieutenant already admitted being a traitor."

"Oh come on," Lucas cried. "He was electrocuted!" Tim heard the captain shushing him.

"Major," Captain Bridger's calm voice took over. "How many _real_ traitors will admit it? Do you even know who you're holding? Lieutenant O'Neill is a communications _expert_. He could talk his way out of a speeding ticket in a dozen different languages. If he cared to, he could convince you of anything, so why incriminate himself?"

It was a good thing Tim couldn't laugh. Of course, he would be the last person to begrudge the captain any lie he thought prudent. Turnabout was fair play and Bridger was very likely saving his life. He was just glad he didn't have to prove he could talk his way out of a ticket because he couldn't even do that in English.

The captain continued, "I'm guessing he confessed to try to protect me and Lucas. You know, he's the only reason your first assassination attempt failed. He didn't eat your drugged chicken. But you beat him up pretty bad. When he came to, he could have left us both to die on that doomed plane and no one would have blamed him for it. Think about it. Do traitors risk their own lives to save the guilty?"

"I—I have orders."

"Whose orders?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not? If it's legitimate, there should be no reason to hide."

"You're trying to confuse me. The military has many secrets. It's not my place to question orders."

"That's what the Nazis said about committing genocide. If this is really about treason, why not just arrest us? O'Neill is already in your custody and I told you I'd surrender. Turn us in."

"Evidence won't hold up in court. You've already gotten away with it."

Lucas's voice said, "Maybe there's no evidence because we're not guilty. Ever think of that? But your superior doesn't care, does he? He's sent you to be judge, jury, and executioner. If that's patriotism, I'd rather be a traitor." His voice got very faint, like he'd turned away from the vid-link. "Captain, he's at the airport."

"Your young friend is right," Slate said. "We're at the airport. And I must admit I'm surprised you really do have SEALs here. I thought that was a bluff."

"Everything I told you was the truth. I'm only twenty minutes away. Run a back-trace and see for yourself. I'm on westbound highway 90."

"Don't call me again."

Tim heard the disconnect tone and Slate growling with frustration.

_I think the captain got to him_, Tim reported to Wendy.

_What's he doing?_ Mary asked.

_I have no idea. He stopped the car and it's really quiet. _Tim started praying 'Hail Mary', hoping he could reach the spiritual plane without the other Mary hearing. He couldn't ask Mary and Wendy to disconnect; he didn't want them to leave him alone, but he knew very well that Slate might kill him at any second with no warning. He tried to will his body to stop shaking. If he had to meet his Maker, he wanted to do it with courage.

The car door opened. Tim felt a hand reach around his head. Slate was probably one of those guys who could snap a neck fast enough that his victim couldn't scream. Tim made a conscious effort not to tell Mary and Wendy what was going on. If Slate killed him, there was nothing anyone could do.

"Don't move," Lieutenant Brody's steely voice ordered. He was close—really close. Like maybe he was right outside the car window, looking in. And with the warning in his voice, he no doubt had a weapon trained on Slate.

"I was going to free him," Slate said. "Captain Bridger said he'd trade places."

"There's no way I'm letting you have the captain, but if you let Tim go, you can get on the plane. We won't stop you."

He scoffed. "You'd let me get away?"

"By yourself, yes. Captain's orders. He'd rather take his chances at capturing you later so you'll testify against Overbeck. But all deals are off as long as you have a hostage."

"Fine."

Tim felt something cold and metallic hit his bare thigh. Dammit. He'd forgotten his pants were gone and he was tied up in his briefs. In front of Brody. Whatever it was that hit him got scooped up off his leg.

"Hold still, Tim," Brody whispered.

There was a snap of plastic as the zip-tie broke and his shoulders jerked forward when his wrists released from their binding. He realized that the metallic object was the Bowie knife. Tim would have groaned from the pain in his arms, but his mouth was still taped. _Slate let me go. Brody's got him covered_, Tim reported to his telepathic listeners.

Brody's voice broadcast into the outside air, facing away from them. "Stand down. We made a deal."

Just then, the skin around Tim's lips erupted in sting as the tape ripped off his mouth. "You okay?" a familiar voice asked.

"Miguel? Yeah, but I could use some pants."

Both of his friends laughed but it wasn't in ridicule. It was more of a nervous relief. "I'll get you something out of the jeep," Miguel said. "Sit tight."

Like he was going anywhere with his ankles wrapped in duct tape. He heard Miguel jog away. Then he felt tension on the tape just before the knife sliced through it, releasing his legs. Footsteps arrived, but it seemed like too soon for Miguel to have found a pair of pants and returned. The jeep couldn't have been that close.

"We just lettin' him get away?" Piccolo's unmistakable voice asked.

"Captain's orders," Brody said. "He's a witness and we need him alive. Better we earn his trust now and nab him later."

"Anybody tell _that_ guy?"

Someone shouted, "Noooo!" at the same time as a shot rang out. It wasn't laser or sonic either. Tim wasn't very familiar with projectile weapons, but that's what it sounded like. He somehow forced his cold, stiff hands around to pull the tape off his eyes. Brody and Piccolo were running away, but without glasses, it was hard to see what they were running toward.

_Dr. Smith, how close are you guys? Someone's been shot!_

_Who? _Mary and Wendy both asked.

_I can't tell. I think it was Slate. But Brody told the SEALs to stand down. It wasn't a standard-issue weapon either. I think it was a rifle, the kind with bullets._

_Do what you can to control bleeding. We're going as fast as we can, but we're still five minutes away._ Tim faced the blurry movement and raised his voice. "Doctors Smith and Westphalen are five minutes away."

"How do you know?" Miguel's voice startled Tim. He'd been focused on the far-away blur and missed his return. A wad of fabric hit him in the hands.

"Remember I told you about my psychic-radio-friend, Mary?"

"The one who makes you smile all goofy when you talk about her?"

Did he do that? He looked down, ostensibly to try to figure out how to put on the sweatpants he was holding. He mumbled, "Uh, yeah, that one." Did he need to explain any more? Surely Miguel could connect the dots from here. He needed to get pants on and try to find his glasses.

"He's asking for Tim," Brody called from the source of the commotion.

Miguel silently guided the pants in his hands so he had a proper hold on the waistband. Tim hurried with the maneuver, still fighting the numbness in his hands.

"Coming," Miguel shouted.

Tim got his feet through the right parts and stood. His legs were a little stiff, but not nearly as bad as his arms. The pants were on. Either because he realized Tim couldn't see or because he saw how unsure his footing was, Miguel lifted an arm over his neck and steadied him. No words were spoken as they dashed off toward the fuzzy outline of people huddled on the tarmac.

There was a lot of red blur on the reclined figure, but Tim couldn't see much else of the wound. He faced one of the squatting onlookers, hoping it was Brody or Piccolo. "How bad is it?" he whispered.

Whoever it was just shook his head.

"We didn't do this!" Tim said as he knelt near the body. "Captain Bridger wouldn't break a deal." He couldn't believe he was trying to comfort the goon who'd tried so hard to kill both him and his friends, but he was no longer a threat now.

Slate coughed. "I believe you. I should have figured it out when he wouldn't give me backup. Your C.O. was willing to trade himself for you, but mine thought I was a liability. _He_'s the one who did this."

"Who?" Tim asked urgently.

Slate coughed more and his voice weakened. "General Albert Denton. Me and Black and Klein, we didn't know. We thought we were protecting our country. I—" He convulsed. "Sorry," he croaked.

Tim laid his hand on the body, hoping he was correctly interpreting the blur that looked like a sleeve. He felt Slate's hand and grasped it. It was cold and there was no indication of life in the muscles. Tim leaned over and whispered, "I forgive you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The GPS device on the dash of the Navy-owned car had already beeped twice. The first time had been a speeding ticket notification, probably charged to _his_ social security because he'd been the one to check out the vehicle. The second time had been an announcement that law enforcement were being sent because of failure to reduce speed after the first notification. "Yes! Please send them!" Nathan said to the sickeningly-pleasant voice making the announcement. "Save me the trouble of having to call." It was a good thing highway 90 was relatively barren of traffic. His speed may have been illegal, but he wasn't endangering anyone.

It was probably a good thing he was driving because both of the doctors had that trauma-emergency look in their eyes. There was no telling what speeds they might achieve had one of them been at the wheel. It was actually long past Wendy's turn, but he'd deferred her offer to take over. She had to communicate with Tim, and Nathan had to feel like he had some measure of control beyond just listening to the events unfold. So he drove, carefully balancing the safety of Lucas and two women against getting the doctors to the shooting victim.

The airport was easy to find and it wasn't hard to see where to go once he got there either. Half a dozen people in blue camo fatigues were huddled around a figure on the runway and the other half-dozen were pointing laser rifles at his car until he got close enough to recognize. He hit the brakes and the wheels screeched a protest. Both his female passengers' doors opened before he came to a complete stop. Kristin and Wendy charged toward the scene, announcing they were doctors to anyone who didn't move out of their way fast enough. Nathan held back long enough to secure the car properly before exiting. Lucas also made sure he didn't get in the way, but he got out of the car when Nathan did.

Lieutenants O'Neill and Brody both approached. Lucas almost bowled Tim over with a tackle hug. "Ow," he said, but not too seriously.

Brody spoke first. "Whoever shot him boarded a plane and took off, but all my team is accounted for. I called the jet copter that brought us here, but they were too far behind to catch the plane. We lost him."

Nathan listened to the report, nodding. He'd already deduced that much from the clues Wendy shared while they were breaking landspeed records. As soon as Lucas released Tim, Nathan looked him over with a critical eye. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. A little stiff in the arms, but I'll be fine."

He looked over his shoulder at the carnage caused by a real bullet. There was a lot more blood than what he'd grown accustomed to with laser wounds. Neither Kristin nor Wendy looked hopeful and both doctors had slowed down their movements considerably. They were going through the motions, but it was over.

"He gave me a name before he died," Tim said.

The captain blinked back his surprise and gave Tim his full attention.

"You convinced him that his C.O. was lying to him. Denton. General Albert Denton."

Nathan produced a weak smile and patted Tim on the shoulder. "Good work."

"He thinks Denton is the one who shot him."

"Probably not in person, but I think it's a safe bet he ordered it. He was afraid Slate would turn him in when we went to trial."

"I don't think he would have," Tim said. "Not before you and Lucas talked to him and then he got shot by his own people."

"With any luck, Denton and Overbeck can dig each other's graves and this will all finally be over."

"_That_ would be great news."

Nathan took another assessing look at Wendy and Kristin. They didn't need him for anything, so he headed back toward the car. Sirens in the distance confirmed police were on their way as threatened. He called over his shoulder to Brody, "Can you handle the LEOs while I call the admiral?"

"You got it, Captain."

He used the car's vid-link to call Admiral Noyce. Bill came onscreen, looking concerned.

"We got O'Neill back, but Slate's been murdered by one of his own people. He named General Albert Denton as the one giving the orders."

"I'll call the MPs myself."

"Good. You might want to track the plane that just took off from Lake City Airport too."

"You got it. Anything else?"

"Can you take care of my driving record? I had two doctors with me and we were on the way to a medical emergency."

Bill's face relaxed into amusement. "Still cutting it close with the points, are you?"

The captain rolled his eyes. "Just keep my insurance out of the stratosphere so I don't have to go bucking for commodore."

"You know, they'd probably give you a promotion without batting an eye. Just say the word."

Nathan smirked. "They can keep the rank and put the funds toward another submarine. Speaking of, how did it go today?"

Bill shrugged. "They listened and they didn't boo. Beyond that? Same as you."

"Give me a week and I'll get in their faces again. I'm going to be the annoying pebble in their shoes until they loosen those purse strings."

"Just don't waste your whole leave trying to woo stubborn politicians. You're getting married if I have to drag you down the aisle."

"Are you in cahoots with Kristin?"

"Who better to keep you in line? You get married and I won't get as many calls in the middle of the night."

"Don't count on it."

"See you in Washington."

Nathan nodded and hit the disconnect button. He stepped out of the car again. Wendy was handling all the paperwork involved with being the attending physician to declare a patient deceased while Kristin was attending to Tim. He walked up just as she was examining his wrists. The zip-tie had left deep indentations that no doubt hurt, but they weren't bleeding. She saw the palms of his hands and ran her fingers over the scars. "How did you get these?"

"Tearing a life boat out of a wooden crate with his bare hands," Nathan answered for him. Kristin started to give him that 'don't-interfere-while-I'm-talking-to-a-patient' look but he continued, lowering his voice in mock conspiracy. "Just don't tell her about my attempt at amateur surgery."

"He was helping. Honest. Trying to pull out debris," Tim said in the captain's defense. He withdrew his hands and found pockets in the sweatpants to hide them.

Kristin gave him the eyebrow. "I wasn't done, Lieutenant."

His eyes widened. "Uh…sorry." He whipped his hands back out and put them in front of her, this time with the backs facing up.

Kristin traced the red indentations on his wrists with her finger, not really doing anything that Nathan could see, other than making her point that an examination was never over until _she_ said it was. "I hear you saved both Nathan and Lucas in a plane crash, hmm?"

He nodded silently.

"Then I owe you something."

"The captain already gave me a medal."

She shook her head and whispered, "That's not from me."

"Oh."

Kristin leaned over and kissed his cheek, then she spoke softly in his ear, just barely loud enough Nathan could hear it too: "Thank you."

Blushing a deep crimson, he couldn't even look at her. "Uh…you're welcome."

He'd have to rib her later about making the young sailors blush, but he wouldn't do it in front of Tim who was already embarrassed enough.

"And c-congratulations on your engagement," Tim added as if trying to emphasize he knew Kristin was taken.

"Thank you. You will be coming to the wedding, yes?"

He nodded emphatically. "Wouldn't miss it. Chief Kendall asked if I'd be first mate on _skyQuest_."

"Excellent choice," Nathan commented. That reminded him, Kristin had wanted to go sailing the day they left. He looked around and raised his voice, "And speaking of _skyQuest_, who's up for a little sailing tomorrow?" They'd driven all the way down to Florida; it seemed a shame to hurry back to Washington when Congress had already said no to both him and Noyce so recently.

"Don't we have to go back?" Kristin asked.

"Yes, but it can wait a day or two. Lucas?"

"Yeah, let's do it," the teen said.

"Count me in too," Miguel piped in.

"Do you have a ticket home?" Nathan asked.

"Not yet. I didn't know how long I was going to be here."

"And I appreciate you coming. We can sail down to Cuba and drop you off, if you like."

He nodded amiably. "Thanks, Captain."

Tim, Tony, and Wendy also accepted, but Brody declined. "Can't this time, guys. I've got obligations now." He held up his left hand. James Brody was wearing a shiny gold wedding band.

"No way!" Tony exclaimed. "And we didn't even get to have a wild bachelor party?"

"Believe me, it happened so fast, I didn't even have time to _tell_ anyone. I'm going to be a father in less than a month."

The _seaQuest_ crew all offered congratulations and slapped Jim on the back. Despite it being a surprise, he looked rather happy about his new family.

"Your wife is welcome to join us on _skyQuest_," Nathan offered. But he didn't hold out much hope that a woman who was eight months pregnant would want to go sailing.

"I'll invite her."

Lucas sidled up to him and asked in a low voice, "Is it okay with you if I hitch a ride with the guys down to New Cape Quest?"

Nathan didn't take it personally. Lucas had just spent a long drive in a car with two doting female doctors and a father figure, and the day before that, taking cooking lessons. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool. Thanks." He ran off with Miguel and Tony, happy as a clam.

Wendy walked up next. "Do you mind if Tim takes Lucas's empty seat with us?"

"Is he okay?"

"Physically, yes, he's fine. I don't think he should be alone for a while, and he needs a ride regardless."

Nathan lowered his voice. "It's all right with me, but shouldn't we consider where Tim might be more comfortable?" He probably wanted to be with 'the guys' as much as Lucas did.

"He asked me when I could talk. If you and Kristin don't mind us ignoring you for a while, I thought we could have a nice long discussion in the back seat."

The captain frowned. Tim had been embarrassed just to have Kristin kiss his cheek. It was doubtful he wanted to have a psych session in the hearing of his commanding officer and his fiancée.

Wendy smiled. "Captain, we can communicate telepathically if we touch. He'll have complete privacy. And no, I didn't have to scan you to know what you were thinking. You were looking out for one of your crew, as usual."

He chuckled. "All right, but let him make the choice. He still might prefer to have that talk someplace else."

She nodded.

Tim found his glasses in the trunk of Slate's rental car along with an easel and some painting supplies. He placed the glasses on and waved the rest of his belongings away. "Just leave that stuff," the lieutenant said. "I'm giving up painting. Too dangerous."

"Oh come on," Wendy urged him. "You'll get over that feeling."

Nathan trained his face to a neutral expression. He hadn't forgotten that he almost lost a gifted communications officer because he had aspirations to be an artist. He'd heard snatches of conversations and whispers of rumors on _seaQuest_ that Tim wasn't that good of a painter and he'd been ashamed to be happy about it. But he wouldn't begrudge anyone a hobby or pastime that could fill the hours when he wasn't on duty. How many hours did he while away in the hydroponics lab or grooming his bonsai trees?

The doctor convinced Tim to take his supplies and decide later, so the easel and paints went into the trunk of the car Nathan had checked out. The cops got all their statements and even promised to revoke the speeding ticket after they understood the situation. Jim took off, driving Lucas, Miguel, and Tony in a Humvee. As soon as Wendy signed the body over to the coroner, they were finally cleared to leave.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: Did anyone else notice that I had Brody and his team arrive in a jet copter, then remove sweatpants from a miraculously appearing jeep, and then leave in a Humvee? My bad. Revision time. They had to get from NCQ to Lake City fast, and they knew they were going to an airport, so air transportation is logical. Let's imagine that they took one of those huge helicopters that has room inside for vehicles. They didn't expect Slate to drive to the airport, so they would have needed ground transportation to get from the airport to the woods where Tim was trapped. With 6 SEALs plus Tony, Jim, and Miguel, one jeep probably wasn't enough, so they brought a jeep and a Humvee. After the big chopper dropped off vehicles and personnel, it took off, never planning to return; that's why it was too far away to pursue the plane that Slate's assassin took off in. Tony, Jim, Miguel and Lucas left in the Humvee with a couple of SEALs tagging along. Rest of SEALs took the jeep back to NCQ. There. Fixed. *whew***_

_**This chapter is going to be rather slow, a Tim/Wendy talking chapter with no action. And yes, they are going to talk about Mary Sue. Don't like Mary Sue, then skip it. Really. Nothing else going to happen.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 19**

Wendy wasn't prepared for how she felt when Kristin examined Tim. She had told Tim that Kristin was now _seaQuest_'s CMO and that she was coming with Nathan in an official capacity, with the intention of acting as his doctor, but Wendy still felt strangely empty when the time came for her to stand aside. It wasn't that Kristin didn't let her help. The two of them had worked together on Slate and even though Dr. Westphalen was clearly more experienced, she didn't even assume a lead role. Wendy had volunteered to take care of the death certificate and other paperwork, but still, she felt a vague loss when Kristin handled the admittedly routine exam of the patient she'd felt was _hers_. Of course, Tim had been Kristin's patient before he'd been hers and it wasn't like he had shown any kind of preference either way.

Wendy wasn't completely sure Tim hadn't somehow picked up on her melancholy and asked to speak with her solely to make _her_ feel more useful. And if he did, she had to admit she appreciated it. He hadn't been in any sort of hurry. He probably could have waited until they were back at Fort Gore or on _skyQuest _tomorrow. But she had been anxious to talk to him ever since Mary's first distress call, and his request just sealed her urgency. She did follow Nathan's suggestion and _asked_ him whether he wanted to ride with the captain and his fiancée. His initial distress was palpable.

"They don't expect you to make conversation, Tim. In fact, I asked the captain if he would excuse us so that you and I could talk telepathically. We'd have complete privacy that way. I've been in your mind several times, but it was always some sort of necessity or forced by drugs. You can come into my mind this time if you'd rather."

"I haven't seen Dr. Westphalen in over a year. Are you sure she won't think I'm rude?"

"She drove the longest and no one has slept since we got a fix on your location. She's probably going to sleep all the way to New Cape Quest. Besides, you've been through a bit of an ordeal yourself. She'd expect you to rest."

_Then shouldn't I rest?_

She could tell by the look on his face that he didn't mean for her to hear it. So Tim was intimidated by Dr. Westphalen. She'd felt it from Lucas and Nathan too. She could have taken offense as to why no one took her doctor's orders as seriously, but she chose to be amused and curious instead. None of these people feared Kristin in a negative sense. In fact, they all loved her to some degree. "_Can_ you rest right now?"

"Rest, maybe, but probably not sleep."

"You _will_ be resting. If she takes notice at all, she may even think you're asleep. But I really don't think anyone is going to be scrutinizing your movements. Everyone is just glad to have you back in one piece. You'll get plenty of leeway."

"All right."

They walked toward the unremarkable blue sedan where Nathan and Kristin were already waiting. He opened a back door for her and then went around to the other side. He sat in the seat rigidly. Nathan started the car. "Looks like we need to get a recharge in Jacksonville. Everyone okay for restrooms before then?"

"Yeah," Wendy said. Tim and Kristin nodded.

"Tim, do you need anything?" Kristin asked.

"No, I'm fine."

"Good, then I leave you in the capable hands of Dr. Smith while I take a nap."

"Nathan," Wendy asked, "are you all right to drive with all of us sleeping on you?"

"I'm good until Jacksonville, but then I expect someone else is going to need to drive."

She almost offered to drive right then and talk to Tim some other time, but she could feel Nathan's nervous energy from all the adrenalin. He _needed_ to drive right now. "We should be done by then. I'll take it whenever you feel ready."

He nodded and drove toward the exit.

Wendy lowered her voice and spoke to Tim, "Your mind or mine?"

"Mine, if that's okay." Of course he felt more comfortable there and this was not the time to encourage him to try something new.

She nodded and shifted behind the safety belt until her body was facing him at a forty-five degree angle with her hands extended, palms up. He mirrored her actions and took her hands.

The tropical beach where she'd been before was slightly different this time. It was the same beach, but there were a few dark clouds rumbling in the distance and the formerly gentle breeze now visibly swayed the palms. The sun was shining, but it was a hazier day. How odd that his mind had been more tranquil right before a brutal whipping than it was right now. Tim sat at a table and gestured her to join him. His wall stood stalwart behind him, colossal and as impenetrable as ever.

The moment she sat, she could feel more than he had ever allowed outside his wall before, and the most glaring thing was his hunger. _Tim, how long has it been since you've eaten?_

_A little over twenty-four hours_, he said indifferently.

_Why didn't you say something? Dr. Westphalen just asked you not two seconds ago if you needed anything!_

He shrugged._ It didn't seem important._

_Of course it's important! No one considered that Slate never let you eat._

_When you're vegetarian, grabbing a quick bite on the road is more of a hassle than it is for everyone else. I just want to go home._

_We have scones and plenty of fruit in a cooler in the trunk. It wouldn't have been any trouble to get it out._

_Oh. Well, we're stopping for a recharge soon anyway. I'll eat then._

Wendy decided to drop the food issue. Jacksonville was only an hour away._ You asked to talk to me, so what did you want to talk about?_

_I didn't mean for it to be a big deal. It's not about If or anything like that._

_Tim, I'm your friend before I'm your psychologist. We can talk about anything you want._

_It's about Mary. I asked her to go out with me. She acted like she wanted to but said she had 'baggage' and that you would explain._

Wendy drew a deep breath. _'Baggage' is putting it mildly. I'm probably the only person who knows the whole story. I need to know that your interest is more than just curiosity. She likes you a lot and I don't want to see her get hurt again._

_I like her too, but she won't talk about herself. I thought if we could go out that we could get to know each other better._

_Well, one of the reasons she won't go out with you is because she thinks you and I are closer than friends._

_**What?**_

_Because you didn't tell her exactly what happened when we were in prison._

_I was trying to protect __**your**__ privacy._

_**I**__ know that, but she doesn't. I intend to change that. Like as soon as we're done. Is there anything you __**don't**__ want me to tell her?_

He looked down, swallowed hard and then shook his head._ No, tell her anything she wants to know._

_Anything?_

Another resolute nod_. Anything._

Wendy placed her mind-image hand over his._ That one secret probably won't come up. I'll only tell her if withholding it would give her a false impression. You should tell her that yourself when it's appropriate._

He nodded, not meeting her gaze.

_That isn't the only reason she's afraid to go out with you._

_She said she was ugly._

Wendy shrugged._ She is. _

His eyes grew wide and he looked away_. _

_You expected me to deny it, right? To tell you that she's really not that bad. But then when you see her and find out she really __**isn't**__ pretty, she'll feel your disappointment and it will crush her. She thinks you're 'gorgeous', you know._

His attention snapped back to her._ She just said I was 'cute'._

Wendy remembered seeing the Associated Press picture on the front page of Galapagos Colony News. She made a copy appear in her hand and set it on the table in front of him. The captain and Admiral Noyce dominated the frame, with Jonathan, Jim, and Tim standing at attention in the foreground. They all looked like consummate Naval officers, which, of course, was the photographer's intention. No smiles. No spark of personality._ That's the lame picture in the paper that's merely cute. She said you were gorgeous after the first time she talked to you telepathically. She had no idea what you looked like. It's your personality and your mind that she finds attractive, Tim._

_Wow._

_Yeah, wow._

_But she doesn't think I can like her even if she's ugly? Doesn't that make me a shallow jerk?_

_I don't think she's thought it through that far. I haven't gotten to the real 'baggage' yet. I don't know if she can ever trust another man after what her husband did to her._

_H-husband? She's married?_

_Widowed._

_Why didn't she tell me?_

_Probably because you'd feel sorry for her for all the wrong reasons. Are you sure you want to hear the whole story? It will probably change the way you think about her. I'm not saying you still have to pursue her romantically, but if you cut off all contact once you know her past, you __**will**__ hurt her. I don't think she even knows how much she needs you just to be her friend. _Wendy knew Mary wanted more, but she didn't need Tim to befriend her out of pity either.

_Wendy, I promise, I'm not going to stop talking to her unless she asks me to. _He pushed his glasses up his nose and took a deep breath._ I don't care if she looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. She's funny, smart, and kind. And when she sang me a telepathic lullaby, I thought Slate had killed me and I was listening to angels. I'd be an idiot to stop talking to her and I'm not that stupid._

She chuckled and shook her head lightly_. You really __**do**__ have it bad. Okay, where to start... Mary wasn't always a recluse. She's always been a very strong empath though. And she's always been—how shall we say?—unattractive, physically. In her childhood and youth, she didn't know how to block the repulsion that other people felt when they saw her. Most people didn't say anything. They just thought it, as naturally, we all do. She ended up attending a school for the blind. _

_It wasn't a perfect solution because the other students resented her for being sighted and empathic. Some accused her of being cowardly for going to school at the only place where her peers weren't repulsed. But, like you said, she's funny, smart, and kind, and she did eventually make friends at the blind school. _

_Then came Chatton. There, she learned how to turn off the voices and numb herself to the repulsion. She's such a stronger Receiver, that it costs her enormous mental energy, but she didn't mind back then. Blocking gave her the illusion of normality and she wanted that so badly. College students are generally much more polite about their comments and outward reactions, so as long as she blocked thoughts and emotions, she could function at a regular university._

_She really blossomed there. You probably had a similar time, when you blew away all the language professors, right?_

Tim nodded and smiled with a faraway look in his eyes.

_Mary had the mathematics and English professors playing tug-of-war, trying to woo her into their department for graduate work. She ended up working on two Masters at the same time, and she excelled at both. She didn't have much of a social life, but it didn't seem to bother her when she had a few good friends and professors that drooled over her._

_That's when I met her. She recognized my abilities and took me under her wing, teaching me what she could while I was still an undergrad. I wanted to get through medical school before I went to Chatton, but she convinced me that a summer at Chatton would help me focus. She was right, of course. I ended up spending a whole year there, but it didn't slow down my career plans. I took online courses simultaneously and I actually did better than before. _

_Anyway, back to Mary. When I came back from Chatton, I went to medical school about 30 miles away from where she was, so we saw each other a lot and we chatted telepathically almost every day. She was in her final year of grad school when she met Paul. Talk about knock-dead gorgeous! Mary couldn't believe it when he asked her out. But he was charming and charismatic and he said all the right things. He never told her she was beautiful or anything too fake. He just said it didn't matter. _

_When she told him she was telepathic, he didn't freak out on her, but he asked her very nicely to respect his mind and not read his thoughts. She assumed it was because he didn't want her to know he thought she was ugly. She thought he was trying to protect her from one little unpleasant opinion, which she was very used to by then. So that endeared her to him as much as all the attention he lavished on her—dates, calls, thoughtful little gifts. He really went all-out and soon she was hopelessly in love._

_He took her to this really fancy restaurant on her birthday where you had to get reservations two months in advance. He got down on one knee in front of everyone and he declared his undying love and asked her to marry him. He even had a two carat diamond engagement ring already fit to her size. Of course, Mary accepted. She was on Cloud Nine for weeks after that. Everyone thought Paul was so good for her. You know, even the ugliest people on Earth can glow when they smile and Mary smiled a lot back then._

_Mary thought that once they were married, once he'd proved to her how much he loved her and how little her looks mattered, that he'd finally open up his mind. It wasn't like he didn't have any faults. She assured him that she didn't mind that he found her appearance less than perfect, she just wanted to be close and for a telepath, that means sharing the deepest parts of ourselves. Love is supposed to be about sharing, right? _

_Well, Paul still didn't want her to scan him. In fact, after they were married, he got more and more paranoid about her 'invading' his thoughts. He accused her frequently, like an insecure guy would accuse a pretty wife of cheating on him. Mary got to the point that she was afraid to look at him because if she interpreted his body language, like any normal human being could do, he'd think she was scanning._

_They married about four months before Mary finished her Masters degrees, so they postponed their honeymoon until after that. Then they took off on a dream trip to Egypt. They toured all the pyramids and Mary even procured passes for them to get access to archeological digs that weren't open to the public. She was truly having the time of her life. Three days before they were to come home, she went to sleep in Paul's arms and woke up in the harem of some sheik who wanted to use her telepathic abilities to plan terrorist attacks._

_From the other side of the globe, she called me telepathically and I contacted Paul by vid-link. He played the distraught husband so well that he even had me fooled. I told him what Mary told me so he could mount a rescue. But he was in on it. He went back to warn the sheik who had paid him several million dollars for his prize. Do you see now, Tim? He __**sold**__ Mary to a terrorist. _

Tim gasped and shook his head, but he didn't interrupt.

_I'm a little fuzzy on the details of what happened next because it was so traumatic for Mary that she doesn't remember everything. All I know is that she was terrified and she felt completely justified in scanning anyone and everyone within ten square miles to find out anything that could help her escape. She loved Paul so much, she would never have knowingly scanned him against his will. But she was scared for her life and he was unexpectedly close, telling her captor how he better drug her with psychotropic drugs, like what Beauregard used on me, to suppress her abilities so that she couldn't call for help anymore._

_When she encountered the mind of the person who had helped the sheik, she didn't even believe it was Paul—not the wonderful, charming man who'd been so good to her. She probed deeper to prove it __**wasn't**__ him. And then she found out why he had always insisted she didn't scan him. He had planned all along to sell her. Everything he ever told her was a lie designed to lull her into complacency. He __**never**__ loved her, even on their wedding day. _

_You know Tim, even people who have the worst divorces don't have to deal with that. People are almost universally in love on their wedding day and truly intend to stay together. Things just change later. But Mary didn't even have that. All she had was lies and deception._

_She was so devastated that she didn't care anymore what happened to her. At least life under a burqa would take care of her ugliness problem. And if the sheik asked her to hurt innocent people, she'd refuse and then he'd kill her. That would solve even more problems._

_She didn't call me telepathically and I can't Transmit, so I couldn't contact her. But when I didn't hear from her or Paul for eight hours, I couldn't stand it and I called him. He was annoyed this time and I caught a glimpse of the real Paul. He thought I knew more than I did, thought I had skills like Mary's, so he got paranoid. He decided the best way to deal with me was to sell me to the sheik too._

_Mary caught wind of his intention toward me, and it was because she was afraid __**for me**__, not herself, that she finally called me telepathically. She got her location out of Paul's mind and I called the American embassy and convinced them to check it out. Evidently, this sheik was already a major terror suspect, so they sent a bunch of soldiers to the sheik's estate. The sheik didn't expect all this attention and suspected Paul had double crossed him, so he killed him on the spot. Apparently, he was there negotiating for a price to deliver me._

_No wonder she doesn't trust anyone, _Tim murmured.

_Yeah. And now she lives alone, where no one has to be 'burdened' to look upon her ugliness and she doesn't have to expend huge amounts of energy blocking everyone else's petty impressions. Impressions, I might add, that have been unnaturally influenced and corrupted by unhealthy models and computer-enhanced ads fed to us at the rate of hundreds of images per day since birth._

_What about plastic surgery?_

Wendy frowned._ You, of all people, who kept whipping scars from If? You think she should pay an obscene amount of money and have a surgeon cut into her flesh just for a __**possibility**__ that __**strangers**__ might feel better about her?_

_No, no! So that she would feel better about herself. Isn't that why most people do it? For self esteem?_

She sighed._ Maybe. But I actually think her self-esteem is pretty good. Maybe she's gutsier than I am for choosing to be herself and not what others think she should be. She sees her psychic abilities as God-given gifts that should be used, not suppressed. Those abilities have saved lives, including mine, yours, Lucas's, and the captain's. Closing off all her senses just to maintain that illusion of normality would be like a sighted person putting on a blindfold and pretending to be blind. _

_That's it._

_That's what?_

_A blind date. Maybe she'd be willing to meet me if I wore a blindfold. We can go somewhere private, like her house or mine—wherever she feels comfortable. She'd only have to worry about me and I'll give her permission to scan me._

_Tim, that's brilliant. Are you really willing to do that though? She wouldn't disturb your wall. _Wendy nodded at a point over his head_. But she'd be able to read just about everything else, probably without touching you._

_And then she could see for herself that I think she's beautiful. And she'd know I'm not lying or trying to manipulate her._

_But she'd also __**know**__ you've never seen her._

_She said I was 'gorgeous' when she'd never seen me. What's the difference?_

_Do you mind if I ask you something?_

_What?_

_I always got the feeling that you were one of those guys who wanted a girl in every port. Was I wrong about that or have you changed?_

_I thought I wanted that. Miguel and Tony, they always have girls hanging all over them no matter where we get R&R, underwater or surface. They're always having fun and they're happy._

_And you're not?_

He scrunched up his face_. Even when I get a date with girls I meet in bars, I'm always disappointed because they just want me to buy them drinks, maybe dance a couple of times, and then throw me out on my butt, sometimes quite literally. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I can speak her language, but she'd rather be with a guy like Tony who just 'babes' her all night because he can't be bothered to learn her actual name. No one wants to talk about good literature or the possibility of finding Atlantis or blue whale migrations or anything more stimulating than the latest Chad Wagner Real-Vision multi-media presentation. _

Wendy made a conscious effort not to sound too condescending._ Miguel and Tony just want to have a good time with no commitments. If you want something else, then you shouldn't be looking in the same places._

_Why couldn't someone have told me this a long time ago?_

She gave him a sly wink_. Because you didn't ask._

He chuckled_. Actually, maybe I'm just now realizing that I don't want what I thought I did. I'm not Miguel or Tony and that's all right._

She mock-sniffed._ Our little boy is growing up._

He rolled his eyes, and then shook his head_. I guess I deserve that. So are you going to call her, or should I Transmit and tell her to connect with you?_

_Wow, you can't go more than two minutes without talking about Mary, can you?_

_Talking, yes. Thinking, no._

She laughed._ Well, we better do something about this before the next tour, because I don't want to pronounce you unfit for duty because you can't focus on anything else._

He looked horrified for a second, but she smiled and patted his hand so he would know she was joking._ I'm going to leave now. Call her and let her know I want to talk to her._

His mind-image got up with hers and waved goodbye._ Thank you for the talk, Wendy._

_You're welcome._


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Nathan called Chief Kendall from Jacksonville to let him know they would be taking out _skyQuest_ the next day. The chief not only wanted to go, but he had some guys from his sailing class come out to practice their skills. One of the SEALs who had helped with the Lake City campaign also joined at Lucas's invitation, and O'Neill invited Dagwood. That meant anyone who just wanted to enjoy the ride, like Kristin and Wendy, could do so without any trouble. Nathan allowed Kendall to be the sailboat captain, partly as practice, and partly so he could relax a little. He still hoisted a few sails and helped with tacking, but it was really kind of nice to leave all the orders to someone else for a change. Kendall and O'Neill did quite well without him.

The weather was perfect, sunny and warm, with just enough breeze to fill the sails but not cause chill. Kristin scoped out everything with an eye to planning the wedding. Her biggest concern was how many guests they could safely accommodate. _SkyQuest_'s designs were revolutionary both for propulsion and ease of storage, but Kendall really hadn't been concerned with capacity beyond the initial crew of nine and the eleven people he'd rescued from If. The wedding would have to be under 50 guests, including those who came to crew.

As soon as they were out in open water, Tony dove off the deck and swam around until Darwin homed in on his watch and found them. The dolphin remembered the hull entrance and dragged Tony down there so the human could knock for him. Lucas didn't bring a vocorder, but Nathan and Lucas both enjoyed rubbing him down and visiting. At various times, just about everyone stripped down to swimwear and jumped into the ocean, so Darwin had plenty of people to play with him.

They sailed to Cuba and left Miguel and Tim there. Evidently, Miguel had persuaded Tim to come visit his family for a week. Getting O'Neill out of the country and surrounded by plenty of people was a brilliant idea. He would be safer while they rounded up all the conspirators who'd been working with Denton and Overbeck. Nathan would have thanked Ortiz for coming up with it, but he didn't want to imply that Tim wasn't wanted for any reason but to protect him. The two of them were obviously good friends outside of work or Miguel wouldn't have been with them to begin with.

When he wasn't spending time with Kristin, Nathan was planning his next strategy in Washington. The direct approach hadn't worked—not from him, and not from ex-Secretary General Noyce. So, much as he hated it, he'd have to schmooze. Wining and dining and lunching and generally kissing-up to politicians wasn't his idea of fun or productivity, but it was the only option left, short of standing on the street corner with a beggar's cup. It wouldn't be half as bad when he could bring Kristin. _She_ could charm teeth out of a shark. But she'd be somewhat out of place at a power-lunch, not being American or Navy. Besides, taking Kristin with him meant leaving Lucas alone, and he hadn't invited the kid to spend leave time with them only to abandon him to an empty house, at least not as a practice.

He wasn't looking forward to leaving Florida and going back to a task he disliked, but he also wasn't going to quit. If some time bobby from another century had risked his job and his freedom to convince him this was important, then he darn-well could keep at it as long as he was on leave.

All too soon, their sailing adventure was over and he was back in the car with Kristin, Lucas, and Wendy for another long drive up the coast. Everyone was a little sunburnt, but they'd all had fun and the return was certainly less rushed and less tense than the trip down. Wendy regaled them with some anecdotes from Galapagos Colony and Kristin described an interesting trip to London. Lucas segued from there into the story of their first night on _skyQuest_. He didn't mention any of the horrors of If, but at least he was starting to talk about something close to that time.

All-in-all, it was a decent drive, with fair autumn weather and good conversation. If he thought Wendy and Kristin were getting along well the first time they met, by now the two of them were all but conjoined twins, conspiring against him and Lucas in gender-war versions of every crazy car travel game ever invented. Even having a genius of Lucas's caliber on his team was not enough to defeat two doctors hell-bent on becoming the ultimate champs of Alphabet Spot and BugBlue. He tried to claim that women in general had better eyesight than men, but both doctors knew that Lucas had 20-20 vision, and Nathan only needed reading glasses. Darn, but it was hard to get anything by these two.

Nathan dropped Wendy off at her parents' home in Annapolis, but he declined her invitation to come inside. Kristin and Lucas certainly didn't need to hear any tales from Sexy Lexy. Wendy could probably feel his discomfort. He was, as she often said, "screaming it", this time very much on purpose.

Finally back at their supplied-housing cottage in Virginia, they unloaded their belongings from the car and turned it back in to the motorpool. Even if they would have let him keep it, it was too much hassle to drive to D.C. and find parking. Public transportation was abundant and practically free for military personnel, so there was no reason to fuss with a car.

Three days after they'd come home, Lucas handed him his portable computer with an exaggerated wink and a whispered reminder of the password he needed to get into the ring file. Nathan stole away without Kristin to check what Lucas had so diligently searched out. The kid had outdone himself. Thirty-three rings from all over the world satisfied his requirements, but only two of them really caught his eye. Only after he had narrowed it down himself did he see Lucas's little notes. The teen had picked his two favorites and three others as the 'top five picks' and then gave reasons why each one had been considered. It was Lucas's thoughtful remarks that finally tipped the scales and made his decision. Nathan clicked through to the retailer's website, punched in his preferences for the options, gave her size, and entered his credit card number.

Delivery was promised in two weeks. He hoped he'd have victory in his funding quest by then so he could take his lovely fiancée back to his island for a moonlit night when he could slip the ring on her finger. However, just in case wishful thinking didn't move the stubborn mules otherwise known as Congressmen, he would make a reservation at a nice restaurant and send Lucas to the movies so he could accomplish the same goal in Washington. They'd have time during their honeymoon to enjoy the island.

As time passed, it became abundantly clear that two weeks wasn't going to be enough. Once he got to talking to these tightwads, one-on-one, he was finding out why they'd voted him down. Bill had been right. Nathan had dug his own grave with that damned video of the Hyberion mothership. People were scared. Very scared. And if Congress didn't put billions or trillions into space defense technology, constituents would be outraged. There was no budget to spare on submarines.

"But coming light-years across the galaxy to try to steal a submarine—doesn't that tell us anything about her _value_; doesn't that suggest how important the technology should be _to_ _us_ if aliens want it so badly?" Nathan pleaded with the female Senator from Delaware while eating in some upscale restaurant that had nothing on the menu but salads.

She narrowed her eyes at him, leaned forward, and spoke in a hushed but ominous tone, "Actually, Captain, I was thinking how dangerous it was to have even _one_ of those submarines on this planet. Maybe we should dismantle _seaQuest_ so they won't have any reason to come back."

"Senator, that is the very definition of cutting off one's nose to spite one's face." He removed his napkin from his lap, set it beside his plate, and rose from the table. "Enjoy your salad." He turned on his heel and walked away, taking care of the outrageous tab before he exited.

Wouldn't that be ironic? Saving _seaQuest_ had not only made them reluctant to build another one, but now someone thought she should be destroyed by her own creators to keep from baiting more attacks! Frustrated and still hungry, he went home. The note on the refrigerator said Lucas and Kristin were at the Natural History wing of the Smithsonian, so he would have to wallow in his frustration alone until they got back. After a decent sandwich and a glass of milk, he felt a little better.

Was there any point to continuing? Was he just beating his head against a brick wall? He'd tried to do this alone, but now he needed a little support, so he decided it was time to tell Kristin and Lucas what had been happening. They knew he hadn't been having much success, but he'd kept his whining to a minimum around them. He'd done this before and thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was a different ballgame and now he didn't even think he knew the new rules.

"What you need, _Captain_," Kristin said, "is an underwater crisis that shows the world that they can't _afford_ to cut off their noses, even to spite their ridiculous faces." She looked at Lucas and spoke in a sardonic tone: "I don't suppose we could ask your father to arrange another powerplant to boil the ocean."

Lucas shot back snidely, "I have no idea. I can't even get through to ask him if he's going to be here on my birthday."

Kristin frowned and put her arm around his shoulders. "Sorry. I was joking."

"But she's got a point," Lucas said to Nathan. "What would they do if there was a crisis right now, with _seaQuest_ in dry dock?"

He thought a moment. "They'd send a _Navis_, probably."

"That's great if there's a military coup, but what about if a colony dome gets hit by an underwater avalanche and they need something big for evacuating refugees?"

"They'd send everything in the area."

"Right, and how close are those _everythings_, and how fast can they get there?"

He saw where this was going and it was brilliant. "Lucas, can you work up some slideshows of potential crises with survivor projections, contrasting with and without a _seaQuest_-type submarine available? Don't use anything too far-fetched. We don't want them to write it off. I want real threats that they can fear just as much as aliens."

Lucas grinned. "It's not that hard. _SeaQuest_ is busy for a reason. All we have to do is remind them what she does."

"Yes, well, I've been reminding, but I don't think I'm getting through. I need to capture their attention better. I need graphics and statistics."

"You got it, Captain. When do you want it?"

"Take your time. I'm going to continue schmoozing, just so I can get a better idea who will listen to what kind of reasoning. There are humanitarians and there are economists. I'd like to know who is who. People like 'Senator Salad' are not going to be persuaded by any logic, so I am not going to worry about her or her cronies. Let's concentrate on those who will listen if we just give them the right argument."

"So, a month then?"

He cringed, hating the idea of mingling with these people for that long, but he probably couldn't do it any faster. "Yes, a month. We'll plan my next big speech for early November, before everyone starts thinking about Thanksgiving."

"Anything I can do?" Kristin looked a little left-out.

"Keep the two of us from going insane."

She smirked. "You always give me the hardest jobs."

He smiled back at her. "That's because no one else but you could handle such a tall order."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

It had been incredibly hard for Tim to wait until Mary was ready to talk to him, but on Wendy's suggestion, he'd quashed every urge to initiate contact. The captain dropped him off at Fort Gore, and Wendy made sure Miguel was crashing at his house until they took him home on _skyQuest_ the next day. Tim was happy for the company and Miguel would have been stuck in the barracks otherwise. Giving him the couch was the least he could do after his friend had flown back just to help with the rescue.

Miguel didn't bug him to stay up all night playing poker or watching movies. Tim figured he probably looked as tired as he felt after the uncomfortable night in Slate's car. The Cuban did, however, bug him to come visit his family. Although tempted, Tim said he'd think about it overnight because he didn't want to commit himself before he talked to Mary. He gave Miguel his movie subscription passcodes, told him to help himself to any food in the house, and turned in early.

Tired though he was, he stared at the ceiling for almost forty minutes, hoping for that voice to sound in his mind.

_Tim?_ Mary's voice was meek and quiet.

_Thank God!_

_What?_

_Uh, sorry. I just wanted to talk to you so badly._

_Sorry to take so long to call. I've been trying to think of the right words._

His heart skipped a beat. Was she going to dump him now?_ R-right words?_

_Wendy told me what you did for her. How you were so brave and how you shielded her from pain during your beating. And then how you got forced into sharing a bed all because of that remark about the captain. Why were you so afraid to tell me?_

_I wasn't afraid. I didn't want to violate Wendy's privacy. Bad enough that the others who were there had to see it. __**You**__ might think I'm cute, but I'm pretty sure Wendy doesn't._

_She's deeply grateful for everything you did._

_Me? I didn't do all that much. She saved my eardrums from getting skewered._

_So modest. Wendy seems to feel that anyone else would have used the situation as an excuse to take advantage. You all thought you were going to die and she said she was so afraid of that Frenchman that she really pushed the seduction to try to keep him fooled. Yet you were the perfect gentleman._

_It was just an act. She isn't even attracted to me._

_And what about __**you**__? Are you attracted to Wendy?_

He scoffed, shaking his head even though he was lying alone in the dark._ She's way out of my league._

_Why?_

He almost mentioned her being beautiful, but he changed his mind. Saying Wendy was beautiful might lead Mary to think that physical beauty was all that was important to him. And while it had held a certain sway until recently, he'd never been so shallow as to think it was the most important thing._ Well, for one thing, she's a doctor._

_Tim! You're one of the smartest men I know. I could get a medical degree in under three years, but it would take me literally decades to learn all the languages you know, __**if**__ I could do it at all. And that doesn't even begin to touch all the history and science. You can't possibly feel inferior mentally._

Then why did he?_ She's so good with people, all eloquent and confident, but I'm just… well… clumsy._

_Oh right. The awkward thing. We'll fix that._

He had his doubts about that, but this wasn't the time to argue._ Wendy is a good friend, but there's nothing else. Yes, I find her pretty to look at, but I can only talk to her when I have an agenda. And besides, what's the point of bugging her if she's not interested?_

_She said you had something to ask me._

This was his opening and he knew it, but he suddenly forgot everything he'd planned to say. His heart thumped away in his chest._ Yeah, uh…speaking of bugging. Will you give me another chance? _He started talking even faster, as if that would help._ I mean to go out wi— I mean, have a date; we don't have to 'go out'. You could come to my house or we could go on a picnic or something and oh yeah, I'll come blind even though I think you're beautiful but I just want you to be comfortable and please just meet me, okay?_

_Beautiful?_

_I'm not asking to meet so I can find out what you look like. You're a beautiful person no matter what. Scan me if you don't believe me. I want you to._

_I believe you, Tim. _Her voice cracked. _You'd really go on a date under those conditions? Just to make me comfortable?_

A nervous chuckle escaped._ Hey, half the time I've talked to you, I've been lost in the middle of the night without a flashlight or didn't have my glasses. Blind is no big deal._

_I know Wendy told you about my past, but I didn't want her to do that so you'd feel sorry for me. I just wanted you to understand that it didn't have anything to do with __**you**__. You're wonderful. It's me that's messed up._

_This isn't a pity date. I wanted to meet you before I knew your past, remember?_

_Yes._

_Yes?_

_Yes, I want to meet you, too. I live pretty far away though._

_You're on Central Time, so it can't be __**that**__ far. Tell me where. I'll get there somehow._

She giggled._ Oklahoma. Come to my house for dinner. Do you have any favorites? I've never cooked vegetarian before._

Real home cooking, without meat?_ You don't have to cook for me._

_You just said you were willing to __**not**__ go out. If you don't eat out, then you eat in. I insist. Do you eat eggs and cheese or strictly vegan?_

_Um, yes, eggs and cheese. Absolutely._

_Okay, that's good to know. You start thinking about what you want. Is two weeks agreeable?_

_Two weeks? _He tried to keep disappointment from his voice.

_I need some time to psych myself up to this, get the right foods, and you probably need time to find a ride._

He sighed._ My friend Miguel asked me to come visit his family in Cuba._

_Oh, when was that?_

_Captain Bridger is going to drop him off tomorrow when we go sailing. I'd go with him instead of coming back here._

_You should go then._

_It would only be a week. I still have plenty of time to get to Oklahoma._

_Don't cut your visit short on my account. I'm not going anywhere. You're welcome whenever you're not doing anything else._

_Are you kidding? If you said I could come tomorrow, I'd be telling them to find another first mate and forget Cuba._

_Don't ever do that for me, Tim._

_Do what?_

_Don't ever stop living your life. I don't want you to give up sailing or visiting friends or anything else. Go. Have fun. I'll be here when you get back._

_You __**are**__ my friend and visiting you is at least as important as visiting a guy with twenty-seven cousins. The only reason I don't get lost in the crowd is because I'm the only white guy. I stick out like a sore thumb._

_I bet your Spanish is so perfect they can't tell you're white without looking._

She was right and he wasn't going to deny it._ True. Second only to English. _How in the world was he going to wait two weeks to meet her? Worse, how was he going to stop thinking about her enough to be gracious to the Ortiz family? _You're still going to talk to me every day, right?_

_Only if it isn't rude to your friend._

_Miguel? Naw. He just thinks you're my imaginary friend. He's on my couch right now. Thinks I'm sleeping._

_You've had a pretty rough day. Maybe you should be sleeping._

_Uh…Mary?_

_What, Tim?_

_Would you sing again?_

_The Hyberion surrender?_

_No, the lullaby._

_I don't know the words._

_I just want to hear your voice. It's so soothing. _He cringed, waiting for her to scoff at his corny word choice. But she didn't scoff and she didn't answer with words; she just started humming.

And he fell asleep with the voice of an angel reverberating in his mind.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Nathan told Kristin that he'd made dinner reservations because they hadn't had much time alone together. Lucas was always offering to get lost as if he was afraid he might get in the way, but it wasn't him. In fact, he'd been a big asset. Not only was he helping with the next presentation, but he assumed the role of man-of-the-house whenever Nathan was gone, which was entirely too often. He regularly took out the garbage and raked the small yard and he'd even fixed a leaky faucet in the kitchen. Although Nathan tried hard not to compare him with Robert, it seemed like Lucas was a lot more willing to do chores than his son had been at that age. Then again, he was getting old and his memory was fading. But that was a good thing when it came to Robert. He had closure at last and he was healing.

No, having Lucas there wasn't a problem at all. It was all those blankety-blank politicians that were sucking up his time and making him crazy. Even after he'd backed off on the hard-sell and was just trying to feel them out, he still found them irksome little weasels. He'd even started to hate lunch and dinner because of the lousy company he had to keep.

He did manage to sneak Lucas into his room while Kristin was in the shower so he could show him the ring whose presentation was to be the highlight of their dinner. Obviously, the kid couldn't be there to see her face, but after that monumental search, he deserved to at least get a glimpse of its final fruit.

Lucas peered at it, then grinned and nodded. "You think she'll like it?"

"Well, I hope so." He really wasn't worried. It was perfect in almost every conceivable way. Besides, didn't women universally adore engagement rings as a general practice? All he'd bought for Carol was a simple white gold band with a rather tiny diamond and she'd been bowled over as if it had been the crown jewels. The worst that could happen is that Kristin would be politely indifferent. He could deal with that. She was stylish in a classic way, but she'd never been a jewelry hound. Their relationship had never been based on gifts. Kristin wasn't materialistic enough for that.

"Are you gonna tell her I helped?"

"Absolutely. Unless she hates it. Then I'll take all the blame."

"No, it's okay to blame it on me."

"The final decision was mine, kiddo. But she's going to love it, so don't worry."

"So where are you going?" Yeah, it was nosy, but in an appreciative way. If Nathan hadn't wanted to share, he didn't have to tell Lucas that the ring had even arrived.

"The Palm Pacifica."

"Ooo. Very cool." Nathan wondered how Lucas knew anything about D.C.-area restaurants. Then again, that kid was so connected, it wasn't all that surprising.

He heard the shower door slide in its track. He snapped the ring box closed, shoved it into his pocket, and set his index finger over his lips. Lucas nodded understanding of the hush order and left the bedroom in a hurry.

Kristin hadn't really dressed up since the first time he saw her waiting on the docks. If he'd thought she looked good then, he was doubly knocked-out tonight. Yet, she wasn't wearing anything overblown or frilly—just a conservative cocktail dress in a soft teal with a satin black trim. Damn, he was lucky Malcolm or some suave Brit hadn't snapped her up the second she left _seaQuest_. "I'm not sure I should take you out looking like that. I may have to fight off the competition and I'm getting a little old for that."

She smiled at him and the radiance about stopped his heart. Then she played coy, looking down at her clothes. "What, in this old frock? You may have to keep me from getting arrested by the fashion police."

"Bring 'em on." Not that he thought any such thing existed, but he'd defend her if they did. "Don't wait up," he told Lucas. He realized belatedly that he was telling a near-adult to go to bed. He really hadn't meant it that way.

"Aye, aye, Captain," the kid said snidely. But as soon as Kristin's attention was elsewhere, he gave Nathan a covert thumb's up.

Nathan smiled and nodded as he ushered his fiancée out the door. He'd borrowed Bill's car, since The Palm Pacifica was off the beaten path and it was a little too nippy to be walking from the bus station after dark in October. Nestled on a secluded cove on the Potomac River, the restaurant was decorated like a tropical island. Nathan had reserved a table in the patio garden, which had a greenhouse glass roof, but was protected from the harsh northern winds and snow. They kept it heated and humidity controlled, just like the hydroponics garden on _seaQuest_. The restaurant grew much of its own fruit and herbs, but there were also quite a few colorful flowers just for show.

Kristin looked around with eyes sparkling appreciation. "Nathan, this is lovely. Are you sure this is in our budget?"

He winked at her. "Special occasion."

She cocked her head, giving him a cute little smirk. "You sneak."

He chuckled. "Politicians wearing off on me."

The menu reminded him of the little mom and pop shack down in Florida, minus all the Hispanic influence. Heavy on seafood, this place was more Polynesian in flavor. They both had a hard time choosing and finally settled on ordering two dishes they both liked and sharing.

They chatted effortlessly, although Nathan would never be able to remember what they talked about. It was just so nice to talk to someone who could smile without it looking faker than a three-dollar bill. That, and the fact he could wax rhapsodic about the sea and she didn't look at him like he was from some loony bin.

When they'd both eaten more than they should have and the conversation had reached a lull, Nathan took Kristin by the hand and stared into her deep brown eyes. "Kristin, I know I kinda messed up the proposal."

"Nonsense. We're not going to stand on old-fashioned protocol, now are we?"

"No. I'm not threatened by it one bit. I just didn't want you to think I hadn't given it a lot of thought or had any doubts about _you_. My doubts were all about me and whether I was over Carol. She and Robert left a huge vacuum and I'm never really sure that I'm not using you and Lucas as emotional pinch-hitters."

"Lucas needed a good role model. You knew that the day you met him. Admiral Noyce told you so himself. I heard him. You've fulfilled that role to his great benefit. Why should you feel guilty that you ended up growing fond of him?"

"His father and mother make me so mad I want to punch their lights out sometimes."

She smiled. "You and me both. But he'll be an adult in just a few months and then it will be up to him what role his parents have. From what he's told me, I think their last chance is quickly approaching. If they don't reach out soon, they will lose him, not in any dramatic tell-off and disowning, but he's just not going to push them anymore. He's convinced that they'll be glad he's no longer their burden."

"Fools."

She shrugged. "Their loss, but our gain. I have to admit that I enjoy Lucas's company. We've had a smashing time visiting all the sights in Washington. He's dragged me off on more adventures than I'd have dared to brave alone."

"He's doing me a big favor too."

"All that research? You know he loves every minute of it. He's dying to knock the socks off those tightwads."

Nathan chuckled. "I'm sure he will. But I was thinking about how helpful he's been around the house and how glad I am that the two of you are keeping each other occupied."

She scoffed. "Occupied? Are you kidding? We're on vacation! All these museums are like candy stores where we can drool all day."

"And this is one other favor he's done for me that you don't know about."

She tilted her head and gave him a curious look.

He pulled the ring box from his pocket and set it on the table. "I picked it out, but only after Lucas scoured the planet for something as special as you."

Her brown eyes widened.

He wanted her to see that elusive Environmental Mining Association seal almost as much as he wanted her to see the ring, so he just nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead and open it."

She grabbed the box and lifted the lid. Her face blossomed into such a glorious beam of pure joy that he wished he'd had it on video. Her voice was a ragged whisper of awe. "Nathan, it's so perfect." She burst out of her seat and practically attacked him with her hug of thanks, laying a very nice kiss on his lips.

He drank in her delight. "May I?" he asked, nodding toward the box still clutched in her hand.

She handed over the box. "Please."

According to Lucas's research, rose gold and white gold had been accepted for many years as completely desirable and legitimate incarnations of 14 karat gold, while the less popular but just as pure green gold had been relegated to grape leaves in the tri-color designs of Black Hills, South Dakota. However, in recent years, it had been adopted by a small but ardent group of aficionados among the environmentally sensitive, as a symbol of commitment to the cause. It was more subtle than wearing a green ribbon, but subtlety was something he knew Kristin would appreciate. The ring was made entirely out of green gold. The table was a smooth, flat oval which displayed paua and white mother-of-pearl insets shaped like two fish with their tails intertwined. A nautical rope inscribed in green gold framed the oval. The top and bottom ropes joined on the shoulder and twisted to form the band.

He removed the ring from the box and whispered, "Lucas calls this the 'love fish' design. I think you're the white one and I'm the blue. This is engagement and wedding band both if that's all right with you."

She held out her hand as tears formed in her eyes. "It's absolutely perfect. I wouldn't want anything else."

He slipped the ring on her finger and stole another kiss.

When they finally came up for air, she spoke softly, "But what about you? Should I get you a wedding band?"

Nathan had worn his Naval Academy ring on his left hand ever since he removed the band that matched Carol's. His hand had felt naked with nothing there and it had seemed appropriate up until now. He could move it easily enough to his right hand, but something else worried him. He touched the ring and looked her square in the eyes. "Kristin, would it feel too much like I'm married to my work if I left this here? I'm afraid of announcing to every nasty scoundrel I come across on vid-link that I have someone special to me that they might use as leverage."

She smiled lazily, still glowing about her own ring so much that he doubted a hurricane would faze her. "Yes, Superman, you can keep the Clark Kent glasses. I know you're just trying to protect me with your secret identity."

"You know I love you, Lois Lane?"

She smiled and waggled her brows. "How about you fly me home for dessert, Superman?"


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: Okay, my lovelies, here's a little change of pace. Time to take a shallow dip into the mind of Tony Piccolo. (Wouldn't want to dive too far into such a scary place.) This is just a fun little interlude. Chalk it up to comic relief.**_

* * *

**Chapter 23**

Petty Officer Anthony Piccolo spent about two weeks acting like a typical sailor on leave—staying out late at bars, one-night stands with girls he hardly knew, and sleeping through most of the days. He'd made a point to go swimming with Darwin twice a week or so, but beyond that, he wasn't accomplishing anything. He'd been surprised when Brody asked him to join Tim's rescue party. He had SEALs at his disposal, for gosh sakes. Lake City didn't seem to have a real lake, so they didn't need gills for the op, and Brody knew it.

Surprising even himself, Tony had jumped at the chance for some action. Then Brody dropped the bombshell with that ring on his left hand. Just like that. No thinkin'. Just bam. Hitched. And if that wasn't enough, he'd gone all responsible and turned down sailing to be with the little wifey who was preggers. Wow, Brody, of all guys, a dad. It was kinda sickening, but at the same time, Tony thought, in the back of his mind (where he'd never admit it), that it was, well, sorta admirable. Not that he wanted anything to do with that nasty m-word, nor did he want the responsibility of a kid. But it struck him how he was wasting his leave time. And after that, it just didn't feel right to party the whole time.

He went on the _skyQuest_ and discovered, quite unexpectedly, he was following orders without thinkin' it was a total drag. He'd always thought officers just got off on ordering stooges around and the navy was all set up to give them their jollies. Yeah, the cap usually saved everyone's butts when there was a crisis, but on a day-to-day level, driving _seaQuest_ around just wasn't all that hard. Once he knew what buttons to press and how to manage the helm controls, Tony always thought he could have done his job without the big wigs looking over his shoulder and barking off orders all the time.

But _skyQuest_ was harder. There weren't no computers or buttons to press. Sails and masts and ropes and rudders and all them things were a lot more complicated. Kendall knew how to make the trimaran sail right and so he told everyone else when to do stuff that would make it happen. It was like a lightbulb went off in his noggin and that whole command thing made sense now. And God help them, but Tony was starting not to mind it so much. Here he was, on leave, and thinkin' about how he should do something grown up and responsible.

The day after the sailing trip, he was walking his cousin Angie to her bus stop when he saw a poster at the public library, asking for volunteers for their Learn-to-Read program. Obviously, he couldn't volunteer as a tutor, but he was excited to see they had a program. He went back after dropping his cousin off and went inside. The lady behind the counter had thicker glasses than O'Neill's, with old-fashioned horn rims. She looked about 70 years old and kinda scary. But not as scary as Greek gods the size of mountains or alien motherships. He stopped smacking his gum long enough to ask, "Where do I gotta go to learn how to read?"

She smiled in a grandmotherly kinda way. "Well, hello, young man. It takes a lot of courage to admit you need help."

Ha! This was nothin' compared to turnin' in uniforms and thinkin' you were goin' to the brig because you lied to a recruiter.

"I have the sign-up form right here." She handed him a clipboard with a pen on a string.

_Sign-up form?_ He was starting to think he should run. Fast. He looked down. Name and address he could figure out, but there was other stuff they wanted to know and he thought it was unfair to ask any shmuck to read a form so's he could learn to read.

The old lady put her hand on his shoulder. "Can you write at all?"

He nodded.

"Just write your name at the top. We'll go from there."

Relief slammed into him and he wrote his name in the correct spot and handed the clipboard back. Tony noticed her brass name badge—Alice Bradley, Head Librarian. At least he could figure that much out. "I should prolly mention I got dyslexia, Miss Bradley."

She smiled and looked at his name on the form. "Okay, Mr. Piccolo, that means you need extra help, but it doesn't mean you can't learn. You _want_ to learn or you wouldn't be here, right?"

"Right, my commander says I gotta learn and I'm on leave while _seaQuest_ is in dry dock, so I thought I'd start learnin' instead of wastin' all this time."

"You're in the navy then?"

"Yeah. Petty Officer Piccolo. That's me."

She started writing on his form. "My son is in the navy. Would you mind me being your tutor, Mr. Piccolo, or were you counting on someone younger and more 'fun'?"

_Fun?_ He didn't think this was going to be fun and he never thought he'd be able to choose his teacher. "You can just call me Tony, ma'am, and if you got the time to teach me, then no, I don't gotta have someone younger. I think it's great what you're doin' here, teachin' guys like me that didn't wanna learn in school."

"How did you get in the navy without knowing how to read?"

Tony sighed. "I ain't proud of it, but I lied. I got someone else to take the GED for me and then I pretended I had a broken arm so the recruiter would fill out my intake forms."

"You'll find out that all that energy you spent trying to hide the fact you couldn't read will be much better spent just learning how. When is your leave over?"

"January some time. I'm not sure."

"I tell you what. Can you come to the library three times a week for an hour?"

He nodded. "Sure. I can do that."

"We should get you through the basic program by January and then I can give you the next book to take with you. _SeaQuest_ is a big submarine. Surely someone on that boat can help you with the next part."

"You'll just _give_ me the book?"

"This is a library. We'll call it a loan. You won't have to bring it back until the next time you're in port. How's that?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah. I can deal with that."

So Miss Alice, as she preferred to be called, took him to a quiet little corner with a desk and started his first lesson, using a book called "100 Easy Steps to Reading for Dyslexics."

And Tony faithfully came back every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He decided not to tell his aunt and his cousins what he was doing because they would only give him a hard time. He told people he was going to the pool hall if they asked, but most of the time nobody cared, so long as he showed up on time for dinner and didn't ever come home drunk in front of his younger cousins. Miss Alice told him about some special glasses he could get that would help his eyes focus without the letters dancing all around. He bought a pair with his next paycheck. She was right. They helped.

He still went out a one or two nights a week, but he didn't get completely wasted every time anymore. And he still had time to swim with Darwin on Thursdays and Sundays. He started emailing Lucas more now that he could actually read what was in his inbox. Tony only signed up for an email account originally because giving babes his email addy was an easier dodge than a phone number. Email was a lot easier to ignore than vid calls.

Of course, all that nerdy kid ever talked about was science junk. He had discounted everything the silly pup said about how much fun he was having with the cap's fiancée until Tony saw her talkin' to Tim at the Lake City Airport. Tony couldn't believe what a hot babe Dr. Westphalen turned out to be. She was in her fifties? And she didn't take dangerous drugs like his mom did or get herself frozen like Brody's mom? Who woulda thought the cap could land a sexy number his own age?

But all Luke ever wrote about in emails was the museum of the week and whatever history or science thing they were learnin'. Not that Tony thought Luke should try and make a move on the captain's woman. That would be insane, even if she wasn't old. But geeze, didn't that kid ever think about somethin' normal? Why didn't he ditch the old lady, borrow the cap's motorcycle, get a babe of his own, and take her out dancin' or go to a concert or somethin'?

Of course, he was getting' pretty darned respectable himself, so he never told the pup what he thought he oughtta do. The kid was still kinda sour on women ever since that Kirby chick burned him so bad. At least Tony had been smart enough not to say "I told you so," after that.

And then there was Dagwood. The big guy had a screw loose. Everyone knew that. But he kinda grew on you and he'd saved their necks quite a few times. Tony kinda felt sorry for him, stayin' with _seaQuest_ and cleanin' up all the time. If Tony had a place of his own, he might have invited Dag to stay with him, but his aunt barely had enough room for _him_, let alone a big GELF. And Dagwood insisted he was happy where he was. Tony usually made it a point to walk by _seaQuest_ whenever he went swimming, so he could check in on the guy. Tim had done it too, before he got kidnapped and then went off to Cuba with Miguel.

Miguel had invited Lucas to come to his house before the cap ever did and now he was having Tim. Man, that was one invitation Tony wouldn't mind getting. Miguel had some really hot cousins and with them speakin' Spanish, Tony wouldn't even have to talk to them to score some serious hotness. The only thing he was a little worried about was how protective Miguel might be of his cousins. Tony would have an absolute and utter fit if anyone ever laid a hand on Angie, but she was still in high school. That was different, wasn't it? It occurred to him that maybe Miguel never invited him 'cause of his rep with the chicks. He knew his hot cousins would be too much temptation.

Tony couldn't help but wonder whether Tim was scoring some major Latin love over there. Even if Miguel's relatives were off-limits, surely the guy could hook him up with a non-relative hottie, right? Right?


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

To say Tim was welcome in Miguel's home was an understatement. His whole family treated him like a hero—no, more like a saint. Evidently, Miguel had told them that Tim was the one who saved his eardrums and that he'd recently been kidnapped. So they all looked on him with something approaching awe. Tim greeted them using polite forms and they all scoffed and insisted he should use familiar.

Even though Tim could find meatless foods among the spread his family put out at every meal, Miguel told the older ladies who did the cooking about his 'allergy' to meat, so they always cooked him special versions of everything they made, substituting cheese, beans, and even soy burger for the ingredients the rest of the family ate. Tim had the feeling if he told them he only ate ice cream from Siberia that they'd find a way to procure it for him.

Everyone was constantly begging for stories. He tried to get Miguel to tell as many as possible, just so he didn't accidentally ruin a previous embellishment. His mother and several aunts were under the impression that Sensor Chief was basically second-in-command. At least they let Miguel think they believed that. Tim found this incredibly funny, considering Miguel was about the most indifferent guy he knew when it came to ranks. Even when Tim told the stories, he would feign forgetfulness whenever he saw Miguel's eyebrow twitch, so that Miguel could supply the proper rendition of the detail. Every once in a while, Tim would 'slip' into English and 'accidentally' call Miguel "sir". His friend took it with equal parts chagrin and gratitude.

The family didn't have a lot of space, so Tim shared a room with Miguel and a brother named Marco. Marco and Miguel took turns on the floor. Tim offered to take a turn, but they were indignant at the mere suggestion, so he accepted the bed and didn't bring it up again. He always waited until his roommates were asleep before he contacted Mary, not that they could tell he was having a full-blown conversation in his head, but just so that he wasn't inadvertently rude. When he was talking to her, it seemed like everything else in the world faded away.

_So, does he have pretty cousins?_ Mary asked. _Are they fawning all over you?_

How did she know that Miguel's cousins had been all but throwing themselves at him? _Um, yeah. I think Miguel put them up to it though. I'm gonna tell him he doesn't have to do that._

_And what if he __**didn't**__ put them up to it? What if they just naturally find you irresistible?_

He scoffed_. I don't think so._

_Tim, have you taken yourself 'off the market' because of our impending date?_

He had to think about that. He analyzed his feelings and the way he'd reacted to those beautiful women. He hadn't been awkward, he'd just been sort of, well, politely uninterested._ You're right. I think I have._

_Sweety, you haven't even met me. I don't expect to have an exclusive. _There was a short pause, just barely discernable, and then, _not yet, anyway, _in a decisive mumble that he would be willing to bet, if asked, she would say was simply off-the-cuff and trivial, but which he found himself wanting to believe was more like hope.

_Did you just call me 'sweety'?_

_Um, yeah. Sorry._

_Don't be. I like it._

_I could help you with the awkwardness._

_What, the Cyrano de Bergerac trick? Put words in my mouth? _The words he could stand, but it freaked him out to think Mary would be present in mind while he was with another woman in body.

_If you want. Or I could coach you beforehand._

_They're probably just trying to make me feel welcome. I couldn't date one of Miguel's cousins anyway._

_If he put them up to it, why would he object?_

That was a darned good question. Tim didn't know what to say.

_Maybe they __**do**__ just find you irresistible._

He couldn't decide what was more preposterous: Miguel offering up his relatives and really not minding if he took them out, or beautiful women really finding him irresistible. He decided on the latter._ Maybe Miguel just knows I'd bomb anyway._

_Or maybe Miguel knows you're a gentleman and he can trust you. _There was a note of rebuke in her voice, an admonition that she would debate that 'I'm-no-good' argument if he dared to go any further with it.

_Maybe, _was all he said to Mary, feeling a little vulnerable that she had him so well pegged.

_You're on leave, Tim. You should have fun._

_Would you be jealous?_

_Hell, yes. But then I'm jealous of Wendy just for riding next to you in a car!_

_You were?_

_Yes. Even after she told me she wasn't attracted to you and you'd never been romantically involved. I'm jealous. There, I said it._

_Then why are you pushing me to go out with other women?_

_Because I know I have no right to be jealous. Because I want you to have fun. _And then she started talking fast, like he did when he got nervous._ Because if, for some strange reason, you ever find yourself romantically attracted to __**me**__ and think we could have a relationship, then I wouldn't want it to be because you don't think you can do any better. I have a lot of problems, Tim, I admit that. But I will not be 'settled for'. I hope I will be your friend, no matter what. But if you want me for your girlfriend, then it won't be out of pity or desperation. I want to be chosen __**ahead**__ of the others who wanted you, with you __**knowing,**__ in your heart, that you could have had anyone you wanted._

He sighed wistfully. _And when you say stuff like that, I find myself wanting you more._ He felt flushed._ Did I Transmit that?_

_Yes._

_Are you mad?_

_Because you're honest? Never._

_I meant, 'want you as my girlfriend'._

_I know what you meant. Let's just take this one step at a time. No pressure. No expectations. We haven't even met yet._

_I can hardly wait._

_Me either. Have you decided what you want to eat?_

_Anything without tortillas._

She laughed.

_No, really, I don't care. Surprise me._

_Oh, I'm sure it'll be a surprise. I just hope it's a good one._

_I'm already impressed that you're even trying._

_Don't be. If you live alone and refuse to go out, you have to cook out of necessity._

_Or you could eat microwave burritos and ramen all the time._

_Okay, no frozen burritos or ramen. Got it._

_I'll like anything you make. Promise._

_Just don't lie if you really don't like it. I used to make Swedish meatballs twice a week for Paul before he finally admitted he was just trying to keep from hurting my feelings. He loathed Swedish meatballs._

_Deal... Oh, Mary?_

_What?_

_I loathe Swedish meatballs._

They both laughed. Miguel groaned in his sleep. "Are you talking to your imaginary girlfriend again?"

"Sorry. I'm saying goodbye." _Goodnight, Mary._

_Goodnight, Tim_.

Tim fell asleep with a smile. The next morning he waited until he got Miguel alone, then he whispered in English, "Did you put your cousins up to flirting with me?"

Miguel's eyes bugged out. "What?" He shook his head. "No way."

_Mary had been right?_ "You sure you're not just saying that?"

"Me and Marco have been trying to tell our cousins who to date all our lives. They never listen. We gave up."

"Well, then how would you feel if I _did_ date one of your cousins?"

He chuckled. "I'd think you were _loco_, but then, we already knew that, right?"

Okay, so it wasn't just a matter of telling dutiful relatives it was unnecessary to fawn all over the supposed saint. Wow. He'd never been in this position before where beautiful women were flirting and dropping hints all over the place by their own choice. "Is there anything different about me since I got here?"

Miguel shrugged. "You don't seem as uptight as you usually do on shore leave. I just figured it was not having to worry about getting back to the boat by curfew."

"Mary says it's because I'm 'off the market', whatever that means."

"Imaginary girlfriends don't count. You haven't even met this chica. She could be 55 or something."

"Or ugly."

He nodded. "Yeah, or ugly."

"What if that didn't matter?"

"Tim, are you sure those drugs that knocked you out didn't affect your mind?"

"Dr. Smith _and_ Dr. Westphalen both said I'm okay."

"So you really like this Mary?"

He tried to hide the feeling welling up when he mentioned her name, but he couldn't. He smiled as he nodded. "Yeah. Like, a lot."

"You've got a date next week, right?"

"Uh huh." He didn't mention that it was a blind date and even after it, he wouldn't know what she looked like. Why was everyone so hung up on her looks anyway?

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Women. They always want what they can't have. So you're giving off that 'I'm taken' vibe and they're going wild."

Tim furrowed his brows and scoffed. "You're saying that women like guys who are unavailable?"

"Yep."

"What am I supposed to _do_ about it?"

"_Is_ Mary your girlfriend now?"

"Not yet."

"Do you want to go out with my cousin?"

What was he supposed to say to that? Miguel said before he would be crazy to want to go out with one of his cousins, but he'd been kidding. Now, when he was serious, would he insult the family to say he didn't want to date them? "I don't know. I mean, I thought you put them up to it. I didn't take any of their flirting seriously."

"_Their_?"

"Juanita, Rosita, and Sylvia."

"Three of _my_ picky cousins? No joke?"

Tim nodded.

"Man, I gotta get me a psychic girlfriend."

He almost denied that Mary had anything to do with it, but he wasn't so sure anymore. He _did_ feel more confident now that he'd decided he was taken. It was like all the pressure was off and he could just be himself. He grinned mischievously. "Call Wendy."

Miguel punched him in the arm. Then he leaned in and spoke in a hushed but serious tone. "All I ask is if you take one of them out, take all three. Please. Together or separately, but don't show a favorite. You think guys get cocky when they score, you should see a Cuban woman beat out a rival. It's brutal."

He was only staying another three days. He couldn't imagine trying to take them all out at once or three dates in three days. "Maybe I better pass then."

Miguel clapped him on the back. "I don't blame you. Man, three of my cousins. You're like a legend in the Ortiz family now."

"You don't think I'll insult them to say no?"

He shook his head. "That's just it, remember? They like you _more_ if you say no."

No wonder he'd been such a failure with women. He'd been assuming they wanted honesty. But they either wanted you to pretend to have a girlfriend that you really didn't have or to cheat on one. Tim felt a shiver run his spine. The last time he had to deal with such crazy reverse psychology, he'd been dealing with a bona fide madman. He would be the first to admit he didn't understand women, but he certainly would never categorize any of his friend's family members as psychopaths.

The really weird thing was, he just didn't care right now about taking advantage of this new 'power' of his. If he were staying longer, he might have taken the cousins out, but only to be polite. He really and truly could not muster any sense of loss over three beautiful girls who appeared to want to go out with him. "Maybe you're right," he muttered. "Maybe I _am_ loco."


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N: Hello, dear readers. At the encouragement of the vocal (those who write reviews) I have indulged in exploring the relationship brewing between Tim and Mary. When I warn you about this, I am not trying to assert that the writing is bad. I happen to think it's pretty good, myself. What I am saying is that I understand that seaQuest was an adventure show with only a little romance in it. Therefore, diving in deep into ANY romance is a departure and as such, deserves a warning. Before I started the Tim/Mary storyline, I was willing to leave it background, but in for a penny, in for a pound. The sub is in dry dock and I am exploring relationships deeper than some care to read, especially when it involves an OC. Those who are ready to get back to "action", please feel free to skip this chapter and the next. I will return to Washington in Chapter 27. For the rest of you…**_

* * *

**Chapter 25**

It cost a little more to fly from Havana to Oklahoma City than just to Miami, but if one considered the cost of ground transportation from Miami to Oklahoma, it actually cost less to go entirely by air and it would take a lot less time as well. Tim was a bit nervous about flying after the _Fifi_, but with a much newer plane and commercial pilots, he should be all right. He couldn't very well avoid planes the rest of his life and it would be worth it to meet Mary. But flying the whole way would put him in the state a bit prematurely.

_Um, Mary?_

_Hey, Tim, what's up?_

_I'm booking my flight home, but I have a bit of a problem._

_What's wrong?_

_It's easier to fly all the way to Oklahoma than to fly to Miami and spend four days on buses._

_A plane would probably be a lot more comfortable too._

_Right, so if I'm flying, I have two choices, come early, or date Miguel's cousins. I thought you should know I'll be grabbing a room at the Y in Oklahoma City._

_You most certainly will not._

WHAT? Mary had never argued with him this adamantly. Was she this insistent that he date other women? Stunned silence followed_._

_Tim, Natasha Nightshade works for me. I pay for all her travel expenses, so I get to keep all the frequent flyer miles and hotel rewards points. I don't know why I save them, but I do. I've been saving them for __**years**__. Let me put you up in a nice hotel. In fact, let me take care of your flight too._

_I said I'd find a way to get there. I don't want you to waste your miles._

_I can't think of anything I'd rather use them for. I never go anywhere. Please, let me do this._

_Well, I guess so, if you really want to._

_I want to. When do you want to leave Havana?_

_I promised to help mount a satellite dish on Saturday, so anytime after that is good._

_Do you want me to leave time for Mass on Sunday?_

It took him a moment to figure out how she knew he would want to attend Mass, but then he remembered her contacting Father Baker after the plane crash._ The church is close to Miguel's house. I can catch an early Mass. But I don't want to make Miguel get up too early to take me to the airport. How about no earlier than ten hundred—uh 10 AM?_

_You got it. I'll have the tickets held in your name. You want it under Tim or Timothy?_

_My passport says Timothy._

_Timothy O'Neill it is then. I'll let you know as soon as I've made arrangements. You realize this gives us another problem._

_It does?_

_If you're that close, I don't know if I can wait a whole week._

Taking that as a cue, he allowed a sultry note to enter his voice, not enough to truly sound provocative, just enough to make him incredibly nervous to use it._ I have the blindfold ready whenever you are._

She not only picked up on it, but she played along._ I may just have to make myself ready then. _There was a short pause._ Tim, I know this is none of my business, but you sound so different. What have those Cuban women been teaching you?_

_They taught me that you were right. I didn't go out with any of them, but not because Miguel put them up to it. He didn't. I didn't ask them out because I __**chose**__ not to. It wouldn't be right when all I can think about is you._

_You th-think about me? _There wasn't doubt in her question, but her voice cracked with emotion_._

_Only all the time._

_I'm glad you chose not to go out with your friend's cousins. And I'm really glad to know why. I can't stop thinking about you either. I don't want to make any promises, but there is no way I can hold out a week with you that close. _

_Name the time and place. I'll be there._

_Gaaaah! You're driving me crazy already. You don't play fair, you know that?_

"Tim!" Miguel called.

_I have to go now, Beautiful._

_Talk to you later Sweety._

"Coming!" he answered, trying hard to slow down his breathing. He shot up out of his seat and jogged toward the direction of Miguel's voice.

Mary gave him his itinerary when he called her that night. Flight 108, leaving Havana at 1015. Customs and plane change in Houston. Arriving at Oklahoma City 1650. So he would be in the same state as she was by dinnertime on Sunday.

He did his very best to concentrate on the Ortiz family while he was there and did a pretty good job most of the time. Mamacita Ortiz, as everyone called Miguel's mother, only caught him spaced out once, when he was looking out a window. "¿Estás bien?" she asked with concern.

Tim shook himself out of it. "Sí, sí," he insisted.

Miguel mumbled what sounded like 'lovesick' to his mother in Spanish. She smiled and answered 'lucky girl'.

After they got the satellite dish put in, they threw a huge farewell party for Tim during which the three lovely cousins proved Miguel right and tried even harder to capture his favor. Even the male cousins and little kids seemed sorry his visit was over. Marco hugged him so hard, Tim thought the guy had changed places with Dagwood.

"Next time I don't wanna come home, I'm sending you," Miguel said as they parted at the security checkpoint.

Tim smirked. "I hate to break it to you, but I think they can tell the difference."

"Yeah, they like _you_ better."

He scoffed. "Only because you made me out to be a saint."

"Me? What about you? Throwing 'sirs' around like that!"

Tim shrugged. "What're friends for?"

"They're for telling all about blind dates." He raised an index finger. "You'd better call me."

"Email, maybe." Wendy and Lucas both knew too and it was easier to do a carbon copy and explain once rather than have to do it on vid-link, over and over. That would be a drag if this went like most of his dates. But this was the first time in a very long time that he was thinking he had a chance at a second and third date and beyond. At least he hoped he did.

"See you at the captain's wedding?"

Tim nodded. "Oh yeah. Kendall needs a first mate and the captain asked me to be an usher."

Miguel chuckled. "Me too. The captain can't even get married without us, you know." His eyes sparked humor. He didn't have an exaggerated opinion of his own importance on _seaQuest_ or on _skyQuest, _but he knew it wasn't trivial either. Miguel was the most grounded guy Tim knew.

They chuckled and shared a short hug. "Thanks for having me."

"No problemo."

Tim didn't discover until he got on the plane that he had a first class seat. He buckled in, removed his glasses, sat back, and closed his eyes, feigning sleep.

_You didn't have to do that._

_Hey, you didn't ring the doorbell. _Mary sounded a little…surprised, maybe unruffled.

_And yet you didn't even sound distracted. You knew when I'd be boarding. I think you waited for me, didn't you?_

_Guilty._

_Thank you for the first class ticket._

_Thank you for being willing to come here, Tim. I still can't believe you're willing to do this for me._

_For __**you**__? You paid for my plane tickets after I ran off to another country in the opposite direction. You're putting me up at a hotel. You're making me dinner. Sounds like I'm reaping all the benefits here._

She adopted a snarky tone. _And just how many guys you know would hop on a plane bound for an undisclosed destination just to meet some crazy girl, knowing they still wouldn't be allowed to look at her? A girl, I might add, who has admitted to being ugly and whose mutual friend confirmed this._

_None, _he admitted. _But it's not 'undisclosed'. I know I'm going to Oklahoma City._

_That's the nearest airport. But that's not where I live._

_Where's the hotel?_

_Undisclosed._

_Okay, you win that one. I dispute the 'crazy girl' part though._

_Wendy can vouch for it. I have extreme agoraphobia._

_Having a phobia doesn't make you crazy._

_Matter of opinion._

_Well, __**my**__ opinion is that you're perfectly sane._

_And you're just sweet. The hotel is sending transportation to the airport for you. The driver will be holding one of those cards with your name on it._

_Wow. A driver with a card. I feel like I'm in a movie._

_What kind of movie, disaster?_

_No. Adventure. Mystery. Maybe romance._

_R-romance?_

Tim took a deep breath. He didn't need it for his voice; he needed it for his nerve._ I told you three days ago that I want you as my girlfriend. I didn't mean to blurt it out when I did, but that's the truth. I get very nervous in person, so I'm just going to say it now while I have the nerve. I am coming there to try to woo you, Mary._

_Woo? Do people say that anymore?_

_Not really. I don't talk like other people though. That's part of my problem._

_I think it's part of your charm._

_And how much charm will I need to woo Mary Sue Watkins? _He never would have said that while facing someone. Never. But he loved their mental banter. Why did he hesitate so much when he was in person?

_I don't think you need to worry about it. Now I know you made it to the plane, can I leave you for a while?_

_Writing?_

_Among other things._

_Mmm. Mystery. See? Bye, Beautiful._

_Bye, Sweety._

Tim wasn't tired enough to sleep on the flight, which was too bad, because the first class seat was very comfortable. He played solitaire and finished reading the latest Natasha Nightshade novel. The Houston stop was a bit of a drag, but Mary had made sure his layover was no longer than necessary to get through customs and change planes. Landing in Oklahoma City from a domestic flight would mean he could get out of there faster and go straight to his hotel. Not knowing exactly where he was staying or what kind of room he had was adding to his excitement. How much cooler could it get than to be on a vacation planned by the world's top mystery writer? Although, he did find himself slightly worried about the sudden appearance of a dead body.

When he saw the card reading 'Timothy O'Neill', he immediately sized up the man holding it. He was wearing an impeccable black suit that fit really well. He also wore dark glasses and a chauffeur's cap. Tim walked up to him. "That's me."

"Timothy O'Neill?"

Tim found this a bit funny. Who would impersonate him? "Do you need to see I.D.?"

"No, sir. Forgive me. I was expecting someone…older."

_Older?_ He wondered why anyone would have thought he was older, but he didn't dwell on it. This very proper chauffeur was flustered enough for his faux pas. He took Tim's carry-on bag without a word.

"If I may have your ticket, I'll send someone to retrieve your luggage, sir."

Tim pulled his crumpled luggage voucher out of his pocket and handed it over. "Sorry about that. It's just a standard UEO Navy duffel. My name is stamped on it."

"Very good, sir. The car is right this way." He gestured toward the door.

_Car? Not a shuttle van?_ He should have expected that with the way the guy was dressed. He followed the black-suited guy out and his jaw dropped. This was no mere car. And he was pretty sure no hotel sent it either. It was a long, black, stretch limousine. He cleared his voice. "What hotel do you work for?"

"My employer is Ms. Watkins, sir. She said to tell you that the hotel shuttle was delayed and that I am to take you anywhere you wish to go."

Tim just stared for a moment. A chauffeured limo? For him? He found his voice belatedly. "Can you take me to your employer?"

"Do you have an address?"

Tim sighed. He didn't think it was going to work, but it had been worth a try. "Not a clue."

"I have a list of several restaurants that specialize in vegetarian cuisine. Ms. Watkins also recommends the Oklahoma City Museum of Art if you're looking for pleasant diversion."

It was tempting, but he really wasn't interested in visiting a museum so late in the day. He was going to be here for a week. He'd visit when he could spend more time. "Thanks anyway. Just take me to the hotel."

The chauffeur opened the door for him. "Very good, sir. We'll leave as soon as we have your luggage."

Tim slipped into the plush leather seat. The door closed and the chauffeur walked back into the terminal. Tim resisted the urge to call Mary right then. He wanted to pay attention to his surroundings so he could do this all on his own next time. _Next time_. He was already thinking about finagling another visit, maybe around Christmas. And in the back of his mind, where he wouldn't let the idea see the light of day, he was also thinking about moving here. Henderson lived in Wyoming. Mitchell lived in Arkansas. Smith lived in Maryland. Why couldn't he live in Oklahoma?

Seconds after entering the terminal, the chauffeur returned and stood on the sidewalk in a stance that suggested guarding. Tim looked around the interior of the limo and found a refrigerator with beverages. He assumed they'd already been paid for, so he didn't hesitate to open a bottle of cran-apple juice and take the edge off his thirst. He'd eaten on the plane hesitantly. The food wasn't as good as what he'd had on the _Fifi_, but it wasn't drugged either, or at least he didn't _think_ it had been. Then again, he could be dreaming all this. First a chauffeur, then a limo, and now a skyhop emerged from the building with his duffel. It _could_ be a dream.

The chauffeur placed his carry-on and the duffel in the trunk and then rounded the car to the driver's seat. The partition was down when he entered. "It was just the one bag, sir?"

"Yes, that's it. How far is the hotel?"

"It's an hour's drive, sir. Are you certain you're not hungry?"

_An hour?_ Well, Mary had said she didn't live in the city, so it made sense that she'd get a hotel closer to her house. "No, thanks. What hotel is it?"

"The new Radisson Xavier, east of here. Would you like to see the route?"

"Yeah," Tim said. He wished afterwards that he'd been more suave and articulate. A ten-inch screen lowered from the ceiling and lit up with the GPS map view.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"The intercom button is on the panel to your right. Please relax and enjoy the ride." And with that, the smoked glass partition rose to meet the roof.

Tim did watch carefully while they were in the city, but once they were on Interstate 40 and he could see by the map that they'd be on the same road for a long time, he lost interest in the driving.

_Mary?_

_Yes, Tim?_

_You are spoiling me rotten._

_I doubt that. How close are you?_

_To the hotel? _He studied the GPS image._ It looks like about twenty more minutes. Please don't tell me you put me in the Penthouse._

_N-no. But I should tell you…_

_What?_

_I rented a suite, Tim. I took the adjoining room. I'm here now, but you don't have to meet me tonight. I just thought maybe if…_

_Tonight? _**YESSS! **He tried to calm himself and not sound half as excited as he really was.

_If you feel up to it._ She started talking fast again. _You don't have to. I mean, I just wanted to be closer. You know, just in case…um…nothing. I just wanted to feel close to you._

_Yes, I want to meet you tonight. Just give me time to shower and change, okay?_

_I'm not going anywhere. The door between our rooms locks on both sides. We both have to unlock for it to open. I've already unlocked my side, but please knock or call me when you're ready._

_I will. Hey, do you think they give speeding tickets to limos?_

She laughed._ Yes, they do. And I don't think frequent flyer miles will cover it._

_Darn, _he pouted. His heart pounded hard in his chest. He'd meet her in less than an hour. However, much as he wanted this, he couldn't stop the doubts and panic that accompanied the excitement_. _What if he screwed this up like every other date he had? What if he lost his best friend because he had insisted on this crazy idea? _Best friend_. He lingered on that thought a moment. _Was_ she his best friend? He'd always thought Miguel was. But he didn't tell Miguel about his fears and dreams and his stupid bathroom linen. He didn't call Miguel every day they were apart just to hear his voice. But he did share that with Mary.

He decided right then not to try so hard to impress her as to just not do anything dumb or say anything insulting. He had to concentrate, not on winning or wooing, but on simply not screwing up. Then, maybe, if she didn't run away, he could work up to the harder things. Yes, that was the plan. Don't screw up the meeting. Woo and impress later.

He hit the intercom button. "Yes, sir?" came the chauffeur's stilted voice.

"If you see any florists or roadside flower stands on the way there, please stop."

He saw the guy grin in the rearview mirror. "Very good, sir."


	26. Chapter 26

_**A/N: This is not an apology; this is fair warning. **_

_**This chapter is long, mushy, and revolves around a non-canon Mary Sue. **_

_**Proceed at your own risk.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 26**

Mary drew a deep breath, flopped down on the bed, and closed her eyes. He would be here soon. Could he possibly be as wonderful as he seemed? He was already calling her a pet name ('Beautiful', no less!), saying all kinds of nice things, and claiming he wanted her as his girlfriend. _But so did Paul_. Dammit. Every time she let excitement slip through, the niggling doubts took over. Paul's voice taunted her in her mind: _Enjoy your illusion, Stupid. Nobody could ever want you. Nobody could really love you._

_No! He's not like you!_ she cried back. But was that just wishing? She could never be sure until she had done the one thing Paul had forbidden. Non-telepaths had a right to privacy and it was haughty and utterly impolite to ask them for permission to scan them, especially if one was attempting to build a relationship built on trust and respect. It was like asking to go through his underwear drawer, read his diary, and watch videos of every mistake, every embarrassing moment in his life, all at once. Even if he wasn't as wonderful as she thought he was, he couldn't possibly deserve to be humiliated like that. He was a scholar, an officer, and a gentleman. She would just have to live with doubts.

_Because you don't want to know the truth. You want to keep deluding yourself that he could love you._

_Yes,_ she sobbed into the hotel pillow. She enjoyed talking to Tim every day and she liked to entertain hope that he could be telling the truth. But she couldn't live through another Paul. She'd be better off alone than to have to go through that again.

Mary dragged herself to the bathroom and threw cold water on her face. Why did she keep acting like this? The poor guy hadn't even met her yet and she was worrying herself into a frenzy. She stared at her wet face in the mirror. "Agoraphobic, paranoid, and neurotic," she muttered to her reflection. She was damned lucky Tim was coming at all.

She had already showered and dressed in decent clothes. It didn't matter a lot because he promised to wear a blindfold, but at the same time, Mary knew at some point that she'd have to let him see her, probably not tonight, but some time before he left. She would showcase all her good features first and stack them so tall that when he saw the bad, it would seem insignificant. He might stop calling her 'Beautiful', but as long as he would still talk to her and stay her friend, she could live with that.

For tonight, if he was going to literally be in the dark, she had to appeal to his other senses. Tim said he found her voice soothing, so she had spent the last week choosing and learning a song just for him. Mary had no training, but she liked to sing and her voice was a lot more tolerable than her looks. She would never try to pass herself off as professional or sing publicly, but she thought he might appreciate the gesture.

She'd brought books, too, in case he'd like listening to her read. She had one of her own mystery novels, but also a couple of poetry books. Of course, they had the whole Internex if he had a request. Her portable computer would also serve as radio if he wanted to listen to music besides the song she'd prepared. Sound was covered.

Before he told her he was coming so soon, she'd hoped the aroma of her cooking would excite his sense of smell, but she couldn't accelerate the plans she'd already made for dinner, which was why she had gotten the crazy notion to book herself into this hotel room. She lit a three-wick pillar candle that smelled like apple cinnamon. That would have to stand-in for real food aroma. As far as herself, she wore cologne sparingly because most scents tended to give her a headache if she used too much. It would be hard to get close enough for him to smell her anyway. She was pretty sure she would have to stand at arm's length.

As much as she yearned to touch him, she knew she wasn't strong enough anymore. She hadn't had any physical contact with another human for so long that she was seriously out of practice. It would be hard just to hold back from scanning him while occupying the same room. She paced, reviewing her plans: sing, read, listen to music, talk. She found herself hoping he got hungry because eating would give them something else to do. Then again, if he was wearing a blindfold, how would he eat? She wouldn't mind feeding him, but he might take that as condescending and she was worried about inadvertent touch. Dang, but it was so hard to plan a date around nothing but sounds and smells.

But this wasn't supposed to be _the_ date, right? Dinner at her house in five days was the real date. This was just her willpower being too weak to hold out that long. He'd be tired from being on a plane all day, right? Sing, chat, read and then send him back to his room to sleep. Not a date; a pre-date meeting. It didn't have to be elaborate, did it? She told herself it was enough, but that voice of Paul inside her mind told her that Tim would be terribly disappointed and never give her a second date if she didn't come up with something better than this.

She fired up her computer and Googled 'blind date ideas' but they all had the wrong definition of blind in mind. The more she clicked, the more frustrated she became. She didn't even realize how much time had passed when the knock sounded on the interior door. The sound startled her and she jumped. How had she missed hearing him enter his room and turn on the shower? She wasn't at all ready!

_Tim?_ she called meekly. She hoped it was the bellboy just showing off the room and she'd have a few more minutes to prepare herself.

_I'm here, _Tim said. _I unlocked this side and I put on the blindfold, so you can open the door when you're ready._

Suddenly, her legs wouldn't move and terror glued her to her seat. _Uh, you can open the door if you want._

The knob turned and then the door slowly swung forward. Mary held her breath. In seconds, he was no longer the disembodied voice that had kept her company. He was real. His clothes were clean and pressed, but the styles looked about ten years old—too-loose khaki pants and a somewhat faded plaid shirt. The black cloth he'd tied around his eyes was thick and substantial and couldn't help but detract from his absolute cuteness, but the vase of flowers in his hands more than made up for anything else.

"You brought me flowers?" she gushed, trying to keep tears from forming in her eyes.

"Yeah. Are they okay? You're not allergic or anything?"

"They're beautiful." She walked forward and carefully removed the vase from his hands, glad that he probably wouldn't make any fast moves while wearing the blindfold. "Thank you, Tim."

"Oh, uh, no problem." He turned his head, looking like he was trying to locate her voice so he could face the right way.

"I'm over here," she said gently.

"Sh-should I come in, or—uh, or are you coming over here?"

She felt so sorry for him standing in the dark and so nervous. "Scale of one to ten, how nervous are you right now?"

He inhaled. "Um—eight. Just below 'torpedoes in the water' nervous."

_God, you're so cute_, she thought before she remembered he could hear. She tried to pretend she hadn't said it. "There's a chair about three steps forward if you'd like to sit down."

_I heard that._ His mindvoice was less nervous, more playful.

_Would you rather talk telepathically?_

_Er—either way. But could you help me find the chair? I really don't want to trip in front of you._

She had already told him where the chair was. He was asking for her to guide him. She wanted to reach out and take his hand so badly it hurt to think about it. But he deserved to know why she couldn't. "Tim, I want to. I really do. But I can't block your mind if I touch you. It's taking all I have just to keep out of your mind as it is."

"Then don't." It was the calmest thing he'd said so far.

"What?"

"Don't block me." He held out his hand, not exactly toward her, because the poor guy still hadn't figured out exactly where she was, but his palm was stretched out, beckoning. "Please, Mary, I _want_ you to scan me."

"Uh, are y-you sure, Tim?"

"If I let Wendy, why wouldn't I let you? That's why I came here. I want you to know how I feel, but I know it's hard for you to trust me after what happened to you. Please, just come in." He didn't move. His arm was still stretched out and he stood in the door, blinded for her sake, looking so cute and vulnerable, waiting patiently.

Mary's heart pounded in her chest. He wasn't just giving permission. He was _begging_ her. She couldn't deny him. She walked toward him hesitantly. She reached, but stopped inches from his hand. Her voice was a wavering whisper: "Are you still sure? You don't have to do this for me."

He swallowed and nodded. "Positive."

She took a breath and slipped her hand into his. It was cold and sweaty, but the wave of positive emotions that came with the touch warmed her instantly. She gasped, breathless at the intensity of affection he directed at her. He steadied her, wrapping his other arm around her back and drawing her to his chest. She had never felt this protected since her father died. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she felt her mind merging with his in a rush, almost like he was pulling her in.

She'd planned to conjure up a stunning image to hide in, but this was so unlike any other mind she'd ever entered. Tim's acceptance was so tangible, so embracing, that she almost felt like she could be herself. Almost. Instead of stunning (which would have been someone else entirely), she settled on a touched-up version of herself, 10 years younger, 50 pounds lighter, and with her face altered to what a plastic surgery makeover website had once done with her picture. It was how she'd look with a lot of work done, a little more honest.

In his mind's eye, they were on a pristine tropical beach with waves lapping against the sand. The sun shone brightly, causing the crests of the waves and little crystals of sand to sparkle. Tim looked cuter without the blindfold, even wearing thick glasses. He smiled and extended his hand in welcome. _Mary! You're not ugly at all!_

_That's not her, _a snide, acidic voice interrupted. She swung around in the direction of the familiar voice. To her horror, Paul's image stood right next to her, attached to her ankle by a chain and shackle.

_Get out! He invited me, not you!_ she wailed.

_Who is that?_ Tim asked.

She sighed heavily. _Paul._

_I thought he was dead!_

_He is, _she explained_. I'm sorry, he's part of my baggage. _She shook her ankle, rattling the chain._ My mind can't seem to lose him. _Her face dropped to study the ground_. But he's right. This isn't how I really look. _She looked up to gauge Tim's reaction, but he wasn't even looking at her. He was glaring at Paul_._

_Is he bothering you? _Tim asked.

She couldn't help the nervous snort that escaped. 'Bothering' sounded so mild it was comical. Her hands flew up to cover her face as the tears started. _Tim, I'm so, so sorry. I wouldn't have touched you if I knew he was going to 'crash the party' like this_.

The Paul-image snickered. She tried to let go of Tim's hand in the real world so she could break the connection and thereby banish Paul's image, but Tim held tight. Then she heard a loud smacking sound at the beach. Like a dream where you don't see something happen, but you just know, she knew Tim had belted Paul in the face. Her mind-image looked around her hands and saw Paul sail backwards in slow motion. The force of the punch knocked him out and broke the chain without any pain on her ankle. He flew headfirst into a coconut tree and on impact, the image shattered and transformed into sand.

Tim looked at her with a rather sheepish grin. _You were right. __**He**__ wasn't invited._

Mary's jaw dropped._ How did you…? _She looked at her bare ankle and then at the sand beneath the coconut tree.

Tim just smiled at her. _This is __**my**__ sanctuary. If he ever bothers you again, bring him back in here and I'll be happy to do it again._ Mary could feel how much he'd enjoyed it. She could feel everything, from all his personal insecurity to the way he felt about her. He wasn't calling it love yet, at least not consciously, but she didn't have any other word for it. Heady and intoxicating, it was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Even when she believed Paul loved her, she wouldn't have dreamed it could have been like this. The tears started again, but for a different reason.

_Hey, it's okay. He's gone,_ Tim said gently.

_I know. It's not that, Sweety. W__here do you see this going? Us I mean? Even if you don't find my looks repulsive, you'll eventually be going back to seaQuest and I'm a confirmed hermit. Do you really see us having a relationship?_

_I thought you said we were going to take this one step at a time._

_I did. And I'm sorry. I just don't want you to be disappointed or hurt. _

_I could leave seaQuest. I even have my resignation letter typed and saved in my computer. I bet I could get a job around here. Oklahoma has universities. They need language professors._

_Don't be ridiculous! With the number of languages you speak? You're not going to waste your talents teaching one language to college brats who only take a language because it's required._

_Do we really have to talk about this now? We just met._

_You're right._ She didn't download all his knowledge and memories, but she had access to anything she wanted. Everything was freely available except what was hidden behind a formidable steel wall. It was labeled 'military secrets' and she knew beyond any doubt that was the truth. Everything else was unguarded, some things painfully exposed for her inspection. He didn't even _attempt_ to hide anything. How could that not be love?

But he was so far behind in knowing her. It wasn't fair to use it against him. She still wasn't ready to reveal her real looks yet, but when she did, if he didn't run screaming the other way, she would invite him into her mind and return the favor. When all their secrets were exposed and they both were on equal ground, _then_ they could talk about the future of their relationship.

_I learned a song for you. Should I sing it here or out there?_

_If we're done here, I think I'm ready to sit down. You can sing any way you want, Beautiful. _She tasted another rush of that intoxicating ambrosia of emotion when he spoke, verifying that he didn't use that name mockingly or just to endear himself to her. He **meant** it.

And she really was starting to feel drunk on his emotions._ I think I better leave before you bowl me over, here. Meet me back outside?_

_You got it._

She opened her eyes to see Tim blindfolded again, his arm still protectively enveloping her and keeping her from falling. She led him to the chair and finally broke the physical contact between their hands.

He heard her breathing hard to counter the shock of letting go. _Mary, you don't have to spend energy blocking me anymore. You can relax with me. I'm an open book._

The realization that it was true was almost as intoxicating as the raw emotions. She didn't have to hold back her senses. She could be herself. And when the thought crossed her mind, she felt an impression that he had planned it this way all along. Wendy had told him how hard it was for her to block people and he'd reasoned that the best way for her to be comfortable was to just peel off all his normal human privacy concerns and let himself be emotionally exposed. And ironically, he didn't even know that a sacrifice of that magnitude had anything to do with love!

_Tim, can you put into words how you feel about me?_

A rush of panic.

_Calm down, sweety. Only if you want to_.

_It isn't that I don't want to. I just… I'm the guy who speaks twelve languages and can't come up with any words on my own. I'm a good translator but I don't have to be original. I just repeat what others say. I follow orders; I don't have to give them._

_You're a lieutenant and you don't give orders?_

_Not very much, and even then, it's usually just passing them on._

_Okay, well, just think about it for a while then._

He was definitely more comfortable talking telepathically than with his voicebox, so she kept her communication telepathic, but she'd learned this song just to stimulate his hearing. It would defeat the purpose to leave the room cloaked in silence as well as darkness. At least she could touch him and stay close. She stood behind the chair because she'd once read that standing was a better position for singing. Resting her hands on the tops of his shoulders, she started to sing "Ave Maria".

Tim listened with relish and appreciation, swaying his head gently with the music. She sensed that the blindfold was becoming wet with tears. She almost stopped singing, but she could feel that he didn't want her to. He wasn't sad. He was overwhelmed. When she finished, she didn't speak, so he wouldn't feel pressured to reply. Choked with emotion, he managed to mindspeak: _You couldn't have learned that in the two minutes since you scanned me. How did you know it was my favorite?_

_I didn't. I just knew you spoke Latin. The only other Latin song I know is Adeste Fidelis and it's October. Not rocket science, Sweety. _She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then whispered in his ear, "I'm glad you liked it."

He nodded vigorously. Her fingers found stiffness in his neck and shoulders and she started to knead the muscles. Mind-reading wasn't necessary to know he was enjoying her massage. He moaned with pleasure. This hadn't been part of the plan because she hadn't anticipated being able to touch him, but now that she had started and he was so obviously enjoying it, she couldn't pass up the chance.

"Why don't you lie on the bed and let me do your whole back?"

"Mmm. Lead on," he said. He held out a hand limply.

She took it with a grin and led him from the chair to the bed. He felt it out with his hands and then placed himself on top, almost parallel to the edge. She frowned a little. "This is a lot better with your shirt off."

Excitement and worry mingled in his mind. At first she thought he was afraid she was going to put him in an awkward position like Wendy had when they were forced to share a bed in that prison cell. But the truth was actually worse. He thought she'd be 'grossed out' by the scars on his back. She hadn't realized until that moment just how badly he'd been beaten. He'd glossed over that part of the story every time he told it and Wendy had only told her about the eardrum torture and faking some love scenes. Now he couldn't hide it.

She sat on the other side of the bed and leaned over him, letting her chest touch his back. "I want to see, Tim." She kissed where his neck was exposed. "I know what's under here and why you're afraid. I still want to see." Another kiss.

He shivered. _Okay._ He wasn't thrilled about it, but she'd pretty much toppled his resistance. He sat up and removed his shirt, groping for the buttons with the blindfold on. She wanted to help him, but watching him undress was turning her on too much; she had to turn her face. The idea was for this to be sensual and relaxing for him, but not a frustration for anyone.

He tossed the shirt on the floor and lay back down on the bed, face down. Mary stared at his mangled back with her mouth open in horror. The scars ran every which way and not just superficial skin marks, but deep gouges in the underlying flesh. _Tim, why didn't you ever tell me it was this bad?_

_I didn't keep these scars to make people feel sorry for me, least of all you. Look at me. I'm like a ghost. I don't take my shirt off in public anyway because of that. It doesn't hurt anymore. It's no big deal._

She ran her hand over the rippled skin, gently at first, just to let it sink in what unimaginable pain he must have endured._ And this is what you shielded Wendy from feeling when drugs were forcing her to share your senses?_

_Most of the lashes_, he said modestly. But this time she knew what he was hiding. Ten 'regular' strokes and another twenty-eight from two huge brutes putting all their strength into it. Wendy didn't tell him to let go until there were only two lashes left. Thirty eight out of forty and he just said 'most'.

_You, my dear sweet Tim, have a gift for understatement_. She started to massage his back, ignoring the many valleys and bumps that riddled his flesh. _If any of this hurts, or just doesn't feel good, you tell me, understand? I'm touching you right now, so you can't hide it anyway._

_It feels great_, he moaned even in his telepathic mindvoice.

_Good_, she muttered back. It was a short reach to grab her toiletry bag on the nightstand and pull out a travel bottle of baby oil. Just a little oil reduced the friction and let her hands glide over his pockmarked skin. He didn't seem to mind the scent.

After about twenty minutes, she realized she'd stopped concentrating on how much he was enjoying her massage. He wasn't objecting or annoyed or anything, but somewhere along the line, she'd allowed herself to enjoy her own sensations and revel in the silky feel of his warm skin under her hands, to gaze appreciatively at the musculature that formed his back. Even scarred, he was so magnificent, so deliciously sexy.

_What are you thinking?_ his mindvoice shattered her thoughts, probably in the nick of time.

Did she dare tell him? Not that she would dream of lying, just holding back a little. He hadn't seen her real self or been in her mind yet. Maybe she owed him the whole truth. _I was thinking how wonderful you feel and how delicious you look._

_Really?_ She felt his doubt, his insecurity about his thin physique, the worry that she couldn't find him attractive and was just being nice.

Mary allowed herself a shudder. "Oh yeah," she breathed huskily.

A wave of comfort mingled with sexual excitement coursed his body. She felt it through empathy and a tingling in her fingers.

_Tim, nothing like that is going to happen_, she said gently. _Your subconscious has been protecting you your whole life. I'm not going to threaten the precious gift you've saved for marriage. _

His conscious mind started to conjure denials, but he knew deep down she was right.

_Your subconscious isn't stupid, Tim. Even when you could see the lie spewing from a girl's lips, even when you knew she was using you just to cadge a dinner, you smiled back and allowed it. Your subconscious sabotaged your dates to protect you. That prevented you from getting too hung up on girls that weren't right for you._

He wasn't going to call her a liar, but he still wasn't fully buying it in his conscious mind either.

An example was in order, so she pulled one from his memory. _Think about it, Tim. A girl who really cared would never be dissuaded by a single instance of you pointing out that she had vapid taste._

_It was rude,_ he said quickly.

_And now you're trying to defend_… it took a moment for the name to come to her… _Lonnie. Because you work with her. See how unselfish you are? You'll take the blame for a disaster date that shouldn't have happened in the first place. You asked her out because she flirted a few times. You thought it was expected. But you were concerned from the very start about dating a fellow crewmate. You even voiced your concern in an art museum and she scoffed at you. But look how childish __**she**__ was. Okay, the vapid comment was rude. But most adults react to rudeness by challenging a debate or walking away. __**Children**__ paste each other with ice cream._

_So you're saying I was saving myself, on purpose?_

_You're Catholic. You believe sex outside of marriage is a sin, right?_

_Well, yeah, but so are a lot of things I've done._

_Why is it virtuous for a woman to be a virgin until her wedding night, but not a man?_

_Navy guys don't think it's virtuous. They just think I'm a loser. Besides, it's not like I was turning down offers left and right. I couldn't score if I wanted to._

She clucked her tongue._ Still trying to discount your own self-control. Look, if I didn't know you'd regret it, you could have __**me**__ right here and now. _That didn't exactly help his arousal level diminish, but she had to be honest. She lowered her tone. _I'm used goods, Tim. I was a virgin on my wedding night, but Paul took that without the slightest appreciation of what a gift it was. Then he cheated on me right under my nose. So that makes me stupid __**and**__ an incompetent empath. I see how pure you are of heart and body and all I can think is that I'm not good enough for you. _A tear slipped out her eye and hit his bare back._ I don't deserve you._

He rolled over, captured her in his arms, and drew her into his chest. _Don't say that. It's not your fault that someone you trusted lied to you._

She buried her face and wept. His arms felt so strong around her and his compassion and protective instincts were radiating off him like sunbeams. Her psyche drank in the emotions thirstily. It had been years since she'd had human contact, and love, well, any semblance of that died with her father. Wendy was the only friend who still talked to her after being widowed. She knew Wendy cared, but nothing like this.

Mary was in no hurry for the heavenly experience to end, but she was doing the same thing to Tim that Wendy had done, only without some maniacal madman threatening torture, rape, and death. _Tim, I'm sorry that I did this to you. Maybe you should leave now and take a cold shower or something._

_Do you want me to leave?_

Hell no. She didn't want him to let her go_._ Not now, not ever_. N-no, _she answered meekly.

_Then let me practice that virtue you say I have. I can keep my pants on._

_Yes, you can._

_And I can hold you like this without compromising my morals._

_Yes, you can._

_All night long?_

_Yes, you can._

He kissed her forehead._ Good night, Beautiful._


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Nathan waited patiently for his speaking date. He knew if he didn't get funding this time, he'd have to wait at least another year to try again. He was pushing it already to go stand in front of them after just six weeks since the last rejection. He convinced himself it was different this time. Lucas had outdone himself once again with the powerpoint presentation of the decade. They would see the beauty of the oceans alongside statistics revealing the threats against that beauty. They would see technological marvel of structures built to house thousands of humans at depths where sunlight never penetrated. And they would see _seaQuest_. Not just her innovative design, though it still took Nathan's breath away every time he saw her from outside the hull. These Congressional members needed to see her role in the oceans, how she lived and breathed and explored and yes, how she provided hope to the defenseless.

And Lucas, bless him, had captured that. He had just the right mix of charts, graphs, stunning photographs, and video. Not only that, the kid had _composed_ moving background music with that computer program of his, substituting inspirational scores instead of rock songs as the raw material. If he wasn't such a brilliant scientist and computer expert, Nathan would be writing letters to film schools and telling them they'd be stupid not to take him.

He felt somewhat guilty for using it, like it was cheating to be this persuasive. "Lucas, would you like to introduce this to Congress yourself?" He'd worked so hard on it and Nathan didn't want to hijack his talent for his own glory.

"No, Captain. You should do it. They'd just think you were exploiting me, you know, trying to give it more punch by saying a seventeen-year-old sub-brat did the work."

"You're not a sub-rat!" Kristin objected.

"Brat. Rat. Whatever. Anyone who knows who I am knows I only got on _seaQuest_ because my dad pulled strings. I'm not saying it wasn't for my own good, or that it hasn't been good for others, like Tony. But I don't think we want to sell the project as a ten-billion dollar reform school, now do we?"

Nathan raised a brow at Kristin. "He's got a point." He turned back to Lucas. "Am I exploiting you by using this at all?"

His blue eyes sparked with a playful glitter. "Not exploiting. Just being a shrewd commanding officer. You'd be crazy not to use whatever advantage you had at your disposal, right?"

He nodded.

"There you have it, then. If it works, you can name the new boat's moon pool after me or something."

_Lucas Wolenczak Memorial Moon Pool had a nice ring to it._ "You're on."

Nathan donned his navy-blue formal uniform. He'd just sent his dress whites out for a little tailoring and cleaning so he would have them ready for his wedding. While he could get away with white indoors in October, he didn't want to think about navy in the tropical sun of the Caribbean, no matter what time of year. Besides, white was just more appropriate for weddings. He didn't like the stiff formality required to wear one of these, but he knew it commanded respect. He hadn't shaved for the same reason. The beard made him look more mature and more sea-worthy.

Kristin looked over his shoulder into the full-length mirror as he fastened the last buttons. "Talk about exploiting advantages, Captain. How many of these politicians are female?" She had that 'you-look-smashing' glint in her eyes.

Although he doubted his looks were _that_ persuasive, he turned and rewarded her ego-boost with a quick peck, then he chuckled. "Female or not, I'll be glad when this is over just so I don't have to eat with any of them anymore."

"What if they still say no?" Lucas asked.

He didn't want to let negative thoughts enter his consciousness. They simply _**had**_ to say yes this time. At the same time, both Lucas and Kristin deserved to know where they might be sleeping next week. He sighed. "I think maybe we should try some of the other UEO members. Japan, for instance. If we can get funding from other nations first, maybe we can shame the United States into helping."

Kristin nodded thoughtfully. "That's not a bad idea."

Lucas piped in: "Well, if you're planning on taking Tim to translate, good luck tearing him away from Mary."

"His telepathic friend? He took her out?" Kristin asked in the same way she'd soak up juicy scuttlebutt on _seaQuest_.

Lucas loved being the bearer of information, especially when no one else knew. "She got him a first class plane ticket from Havana to Oklahoma City and sent a big stretch limo to pick him up at the airport. I think she really likes him."

Kristin chuckled at Lucas's declaration of the obvious. "Well, good for him. Mary seems like a very nice girl."

Nathan had assumed O'Neill wouldn't have anything better to do and would therefore be perfectly willing to give up a little leave time to come with him to speak to the Japanese representatives of the UEO. UEO Headquarters were in New Cape Quest and O'Neill lived in navy housing at Fort Gore. He had to mentally kick himself for taking his Chief Communications Officer for granted like that. He nodded absently to Kristin's comment, his head a million miles away. This was just one more reason why failure was not an option.

Kristin and Lucas also cleaned up nicely, Lucas probably better-dressed than he'd ever seen him. Not a three-piece suit or anything that stuffy, but a crisp button-down shirt that wasn't two sizes too big and nice slacks rather than old jeans. With a haircut and a tie, he could pass for a Congressional page or intern easily. But Nathan didn't want him to even _think_ about being an intern for these weasels. It horrified him to think he might one day have to fight the President or the Secretary General for him.

They arrived together and Nathan made sure his fiancée and powerpoint guru were settled in the closed-circuit viewing room before he found his way to the Capitol rotunda. He recognized more faces this time and nodded politely when they looked his direction. Respectful, but unassuming. They would build another _seaQuest_-class submarine because they _needed_ it, not because he'd charmed or hornswoggled them.

When they introduced him, the applause wasn't quite as loud or as long as it had been six weeks ago, right after the _Wile E. Coyote _Incident. Still, it was better than a polite smattering, so he had to believe he still retained some of that heroic recognition and some hard-won rapport borne of way too many power lunches. They quieted quickly and he spoke for less than five minutes before starting Lucas's slideshow.

The music had been digitally mastered so that it filled the rotunda like the Sydney Opera House, rich as a full orchestra. The images and statistics mostly spoke for themselves, but he narrated over the few places where Lucas had said something might be needed. The audience sat spellbound. Dang, but he owed Lucas big for this. After fifteen minutes, the music and picture stopped, and the room was as silent as it was dark. The lights came up and Nathan just stood there, motionless, his breath held as he waited for their reaction.

A few people started to clap, hesitantly at first. Some must have thought he might speak after the presentation and waited until they were sure it was over, but when he didn't raise his hand to stop them, the room roared with applause and every single member of Congress stood as if George Washington himself had walked in. Nathan dipped his head modestly; he knew the applause was for Lucas's show and not for him, but it didn't matter. Lucas stood beside him on this goal. The first _seaQuest_ had been his baby and the second one had been his consolation for sacrificing the first. But this one would belong to the next generation of scientists. This was for Earth and her oceans.

The applause seemed to go on forever and every clap built on the last, stacking ever higher as proof that they'd listened, that he'd finally gotten through to their thick skulls. When the applause finally died, the Speaker asked for rebuttal and there was none. Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. He wished Lucas were here with him, so he could share the sweet taste of victory together. Of course, he was watching everything live and not missing anything. It would just take him a while to meet up after the vote for their private celebration.

They called for the vote, and Nathan felt calm and confident. He relaxed in his chair, letting them go through all their parliamentary rigmarole. Ebullient that all his work had paid off and he now could concentrate on planning a wedding and preparing for the next tour. He could leave Washington and all his stodgy lunch companions behind and bask again in the Florida sunshine or find Darwin and go home.

But then they started calling names, each Congressperson, one-by-one. They stood and avoided looking at him and then sighed as they said, "Nay." The first few seemed like flukes. Or maybe they just misunderstood what he'd asked. Was the proposal somehow worded so that "nay" meant "we hereby grant you the necessary funds"? Did he somehow fail to make clear that a "yes" was what he needed to build the new submarine, not "nay"? One after the other after another mumbled their callous verdicts like a stab to his heart. He sat, staring into the centuries' old architecture, hearing but not believing, numb to the defeat crushing ever harder with each new name, each new betraying voice. And oh, dear God, how was Lucas going to take this? His presentation had been brilliant, flawless. Yet, he had to be hearing them mocking with their votes, flailing poor Lucas just as surely as Beauregard had with his cat-o-nines.

He had yet to hear a yes when he stood, straightened his uniform, and walked out purposefully, head held high, amidst their gasps and murmurs. It was probably bad form, disrespectful, and rude. It might even cost him a reprimand in his record. He didn't care. How could they ask him to stay and listen to them deny with their dollars what they'd cheered with their mouths and hands? Lucas needed him right now and he wasn't going to sit here and accept humiliation instead.

The halls outside the rotunda were vacant and it was much easier to navigate toward the viewing room where Kristin and Lucas were. They met him halfway, having seen him leave on their monitor. Worry clouded both of their faces as they approached.

"Are you all right?" Kristin asked with concern lacing every word.

He nodded and turned to Lucas. "This wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

"I'm okay, Captain. I was worried about you."

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here." He motioned to both of them to head toward the exit.

They had almost made a clean getaway when a female voice called out from far down the hall: "Captain! Wait!"

Nathan turned to see who might have called, not that he had any intention of listening to any politician attempt to placate him with empty apologies. He only looked so he could say no to her face and dare her with his eyes to say more so he could let loose with the verbal assault he had zipped up inside, itching to burst out.

A shapely woman in a fashionable but businesslike skirt and nicely tailored blazer ran toward him. Lucas recognized her first. "Katie?"

She smiled and then Nathan recognized her too: Captain Katherine Hitchcock.

"Hey, Lucas," Katie said around her panting.

Nathan was so relieved that it wasn't a politician that he cracked a smile of his own. "Captain Hitchcock." He extended his hand and she took it for a firm shake.

"It's no longer Captain, sir." She turned and smiled at Kristin. "Dr. Westphalen. I didn't know you were in the states."

"I've only been here a few weeks." She held up her left hand and winked, canting her head at her fiancé. "Guess who popped the question finally?" Of course, _Kristin_ had actually popped it, but she never made a point of that. It was just her way of telling Katie they were engaged.

"Congratulations to both of you," Hitchcock said with genuine feeling. But she looked around the halls like she was in a hurry. "Captain, I need to speak with you. Is there somewhere we can go to talk?"

"We're staying in base housing," Kristin said. "Why don't you come by for a visit?"

"I don't want to be a bother," she said. "And as much as I'd love this to be a social call, I kind of need to speak to the captain alone."

Kristin waved it off. "Lucas and I will give you as much privacy as you want. I heard what you did with your helicopter. Besides, you're family. Come now, I insist." She didn't really leave any room for Hitchcock to refuse.

Katie gave Nathan a questioning glance and he just shrugged. She nodded. "Okay. How far?"

Lucas whipped out a card with the address, vid-link number, and his personal email all nicely printed, probably kept in his wallet to hand out to a pretty girl if he had the opportunity. Katie glanced at it and nodded. "I know where this is, thanks. Hey, I saw the slideshow. Did you do that? It was great."

"Not great enough," Lucas grumbled.

Katie looked at all of them. "I know you've just had a rather nasty blow in there, but I hope I have some news that will help. See you in half an hour?"

Nathan nodded. He was anxious to get out of the Capitol before anyone else stopped him or he'd surely say something he would later regret. Leaving before a recess, they beat the crowds on the subway, but not Katie. She was already there when they arrived, waiting in a parked car. She exited. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you didn't have a car or I would have given you a ride." She sounded as chagrined as when she first discovered who Nathan was right after she suggested he go visit the Arizona Memorial.

"It's no problem," Kristin said, beckoning her from the curb. "We probably needed time to rail at nasty politicians on the subway so we could be more polite to our guest." Arm-in-arm, the two women followed Nathan and Lucas into the house, not unlike how Kristin had been with Wendy. "Now let me get you some coffee or tea and then Lucas and I will get out of your way so you and Nathan can have that chat, hm?"

"Coffee is fine, thanks," Katie said. He noticed she had brought a leather briefcase with her.

Nathan suggested that he and Katie take the kitchen so they could close the door and not force anyone into their bedrooms. Everyone agreed that this was a good idea. Kristin made coffee and left out some pumpkin/raisin bread she and Lucas had whipped up. Katie thanked her, sounding a bit apologetic for throwing her out of her own kitchen. Kristin assured her it was fine and left them alone.

Katie started in a timid tone for her. "Captain, forgive me for asking, but you are you sure Lucas doesn't have this room bugged or anything?"

Nathan laughed. "I'm sure he could if he cared to, but he and Kristin probably gossip about _me_ in here, so I'm not sure he's ever had a reason to. She's been giving him baking lessons. They made this yesterday." He pointed to the pumpkin bread. "I should tell you though, I don't keep a lot of secrets from Kristin without really good reason."

Katie nodded. "Oh, I understand, sir. I won't ask you to keep anything a secret unless you want to. I just want you to decide for yourself what to tell them both."

Nathan sat at the tiny breakfast nook and gazed up at his houseguest. He owed Katie and he'd told her if she ever needed anything to come to him. It appeared she was doing so now. He would help her any way he could, come hell or high water. "So what happened with the _Clinton_? Why aren't you captain anymore?"

She chuckled. "I could be if I wanted to. It's just… I have a lot more options now. What do you know about Sherman Oil?"

"They're the ones who own the _Clinton_, right?"

"They have a fleet of four supertankers, of which the _H.R. Clinton_ is the newest, yes. Do you know who owns Sherman Oil though?"

"Uh…isn't it Justin T. Sherman? Or is he retired?"

"Not retired. Deceased. He had one heir, a son: Caleb Sherman. I saved Caleb's life about six months ago on a routine trip to the Red Sea. Mr. Sherman was so grateful that he wrote me into his will. I didn't even know about it. I was supposed to get fifteen percent and Caleb was to get the other eighty-five. But Mr. Sherman and his son were both killed in a private plane in Peru during the week that _seaQuest_ went missing."

He cringed. Katie had a lot of friends on _seaQuest_. To have the owner of her ship and her friends all disappear at once had to be devastating for her. But _seaQuest_ was back now, so the only death bothering her had to be the Sherman family. But why would she come to him about that? "Don't tell me, there's a distant cousin somewhere who is contesting the will, trying to get your fifteen percent."

She shook her head. "No, sir. Justin had no other relatives besides Caleb. His wife died when Caleb was three; that's why there were no other children. And since Caleb died in the same plane crash, all of Sherman Oil reverted to me. Everything has been transferred. It's done. I am the sole owner of Sherman Oil."

He realized he was staring at one of the richest, most powerful women in the entire world. "Congratulations. No wonder you gave up the captaincy. Owning the whole fleet makes you a commodore, doesn't it?"

She shrugged. "I've been spending the last six weeks trying to decide what to do with the company and the money and everything. I think I've finally decided. Actually, it was Ben's idea."

"Kreig?" The last joke he'd heard was that his former lieutenant worked at a fast food joint, but he discounted any such rumors as probably unreliable. He didn't think Katie had bothered with keeping up with her ex-husband.

She nodded. "I made him my CFO."

Nathan tried to hold his face expressionless despite his feeling that she'd made a terrible decision, probably based on him sweet-talking her. In fact, that was probably why she came. To enlist his help in freeing her from some hasty decision to hire Ben Krieg.

"Hey, don't look like that," she said to his scowling. "I know what he was like before, but he doesn't have to worry about crazy schemes anymore. Now that I put him in charge of more money than he's ever dreamed of, he's actually very adept at managing it."

Nathan wondered how she could have discovered this skill without enormous trust, but it really wasn't any of his business if she wasn't here to ask him to tell Ben to beat it.

"Anyway, I had some time to think. Now that I have all the money I could ever need, I'm finally free to do what I really want. I'm good at being a ship's captain and I'm good at being at being a lieutenant commander in the navy. But those aren't the best careers for someone who wants kids and besides, that wasn't what I loved. I know I stressed and complained a lot, but the most personally fulfilling thing I ever did was designing the _Stinger_ with Lucas."

He could tell she still hated that name, but she'd named her jet-copter _Gazelle_, so she'd had some form of recourse.

"Captain," she continued. "I want to design and build the next _seaQuest_-class submarine. I came here to ask you to be my partner. Fifty-fifty. You already hold most of the patents. I'd put up all the cash and I want to work on the designs personally. No more keeping you out of the loop though. I learned my lesson. We'd work together 100% in everything. Nothing happens we don't agree on. What do you say? How about making the next generation submarine a _private_ research vessel, _without_ the UEO?"

His jaw dropped. Katie wanted to fund his project? And not only that, but he was getting one of the best engineers in the world to design her? He thrust his hand out to take hers. "Absolutely, yes! But why did you wait until I'd made a fool of myself in Congress?"

She shook her head. "Me and Ben never thought they would be so stupid as to give you nothing. I was going to come in as a donor after they put up their token half or whatever."

"But if Congress had agreed, it would probably be a military submarine, at least as much as the present _seaQuest_."

"Oh, I plan to design it so it's fully convertible. At some point they are going to want us to do a mission for them or beg to buy us out. You watch."

"I don't doubt it."

"But to be able to keep up with military technology and be privy to weapons in development so I could leave room and make everything compatible, well, I had to make a few… concessions."

"Concessions?"

She opened her briefcase and pulled out documents. "This morning, before I came to the Capitol, I talked to Admiral Noyce and got him to enlist me as a reservist with some special conditions. I won't be on the standard 'one weekend a month and two weeks a year' deal. I will serve all my time at the discretion of just one man, as he deems fit."

"Noyce?"

She shook her head. "No. Captain Nathan Hale Bridger." She set down the papers to prove it.

He couldn't help grinning. Not only was she going to be working on his pet project, but he could now call Katie into active duty any time he needed her? "Is your jet-copter part of the deal?"

"Anything you want, sir. I don't know where you want to build the new sub, but Ben has priced out leasing a shipyard at Pearl. The UEO hasn't done anything with it since they moved their headquarters to Florida. He also said we could build on your island, but it's up to you. No matter where we set up, I can get to _seaQuest_ in less than eight hours, anywhere in the world."

"Dayum," he said with awe. "You just made my Christmas and birthday. What part did you think I wouldn't tell Kristin?"

"I'd like to have Lucas's help with the design stage, and maybe here and there, along the way."

"He'll be eighteen and free to do whatever he wants in a couple of months. I'm sure he'd jump at the chance. Why don't you ask _him_?"

She was slightly aghast at the suggestion. "I would never try to lure him away from _seaQuest_ without your approval, sir. And I don't want to fight over anyone. If I have to, I'll settle for vid-link conversations or I'll come to him. But it could be a lot of flying in the jet-copter if he helps me on-site."

She was probably assuming that Kristin wouldn't approve of him flying that much. Well, neither he nor Kristin would have any say-so in the matter. "I'll leave that completely up to him. If you need him, and he wants to go, then neither of us will hold him back."

She nodded, relief evident in her ice-blue gaze. "I don't have papers for the partnership yet. I didn't know Congress was going to give you such a cold shoulder."

"That's all right. Actually, I'm rather glad now that they did. You and Lucas and I can build this a whole lot better without government bureaucracy breathing down our necks. I want one thing clear right now. You're naming this one; you earned it. Do you plan to be her captain if she stays private?"

She shrugged. "We'll see. I don't think I'd make the best captain if I'm nine months pregnant. Besides, I agree to name her. _You_ should pick the captain. Maybe you'll want her. Or you'll keep _seaQuest_ and give her to Jonathan."

The ultra-military Ford leaving the Navy to command a research submarine? Now that would be something to see. "You've mentioned kids and pregnancy twice now. Is there something I should know about?"

She smiled. "Ben isn't just my CFO, sir. We're in the process of reconciling. There's a chance we might remarry." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He even said he'd sign a pre-nup."

"You take it slow with that clown."

"I will, sir."

"Good. I do hope you'll both join us on our wedding cruise."

"Cruise?"

"Oh, didn't you hear? Chief Kendall built a completely collapsible trimaran that operates on solar power and sails. He built her in _seaQuest_'s hull when she was trapped in 1504 with spare parts and what he could find. Then he sailed her from the Black Sea to If Island off the coast of France. And he didn't have a clue how to sail when he started."

"Wow. And you brought it back?"

"We did. She's waiting in a slip at New Cape Quest right now. But when _seaQuest_ gets out of dry dock, she'll break down and go back inside as an auxiliary vessel. I'm sure Kendall would be happy to show you how she breaks down and everything. He talks about you a lot, says you taught him everything he knows."

She chuckled. "I'm not _that_ old."

"All the same, maybe you could suggest to him that he should apply to OCS. You should see him captain the sailboat. He's a good leader."

"I'll look for the right opportunity to push him in that direction."

"Well, just realize, if he leaves _seaQuest_, that puts me out a Chief Engineer and you know who I'd call to active duty to replace him."

She laughed. "Aha. I tell him to go, but if he does, I have to take his place."

"They have a four week crash course he'd be eligible for."

Katie got an evil look in her eyes. "So, Captain, how much damage do you think Ben and Lucas could do if they had to supervise our shipyard for four weeks?"

He shuddered and the thought made him laugh. "Maybe we should leave Kendall where he is."


	28. Chapter 28

_**Author note: **_

_**I wanted to get more passage of time into chapter 26 than I was able to. I need to do at least a little of this romance from Tim's POV before leaving it, so I'm throwing up another Tim/Mary Sue chapter and hope you all don't want to kick me in the butt. **__**Please**__****__,_ if you're at all sick of this mush, **please just skip it**_**. I admit it's indulgent on my part. And if you happen to like it, please do say so. I promise after this chapter that I'll spend more time doing Kristin and Nathan's wedding and Lucas's birthday, and maybe a Tony and Darwin update, okay? And then we'll get seaQuest out of dry dock, back in the water and everything back to "normal". Thank you to the loyal who have continued to read despite my crazy sidetracks. If you're still around and haven't said anything in a good long time, leaving a comment for chapter 27 or 28 would really help me out of a personal slump. I can't do this alone.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 28**

Tim awoke disoriented. He still wore a blindfold and almost pulled it off before he realized he was still with Mary. He had slept all night with her in her hotel room. Fully clothed, the both of them, but still, he'd never done that before with a girl who had a choice. She'd been inside his mind and she still wasn't scared off. _Unbelievable_. Last night hadn't been a date, Mary had insisted. Well, then maybe he needed to quit dating because whatever last night was, it had been great. She sang and she kissed his neck and his cheek and she could knead out kinks in his back muscles better than any place he'd ever got a paid massage in the orient.

But it wasn't just all the things Mary did. After opening his mind, she had access to any embarrassing moment she cared to look at. She'd seen his disastrous date with Lonnie, for gosh sakes. But she didn't mock him over any of that. She used it to point out his virtue. And even after knowing what an awkward, mixed-up guy he really was, she still called him Sweety and held him tight and spoke with so much acceptance and compassion.

And then she cried. That husband of hers had really hurt her badly. Tim had been sorry Paul's image turned to dust with just one punch because he really wanted to beat the snot out of the guy who had taken a delicate flower and crushed her like this. When he felt her heave and sob against his chest like she did, it just about broke his heart. Tim had heard other guys talk about women crying and how much they hated it because it got on their nerves or was manipulative, but he just couldn't agree. Sure, he hated seeing Mary hurt so much, but it gave him such a rush to be the one she clung to. It was like she drew strength from his embrace somehow. But giving her strength didn't diminish his own. The more he comforted her, the better _he_ felt, too.

She'd literally cried herself to sleep, snuggling her face against his chest and her shoulder into his side. And after her breathing slowed and he was sure she was asleep, she whimpered and called his name and begged him not to go. Like he had any intention to!

But eventually that cran-apple juice from the limo and everything he drank on the flight all caught up to him. Now he was lying in the dark and wondering how he could slip out from under her and sneak to the bathroom without waking her up. Could he somehow take the blindfold off to find the bathroom, but resist the huge temptation to look at her? He wasn't ever going to tell her that she couldn't scan him. It was freeing to let go and be known and accepted for who you really were. If he snuck a peek at her while she slept, she'd find out and he knew he'd feel like a heel. The only reason she'd agreed to any of this was on his promise to be blind. He wouldn't break that promise and lose her trust.

"Tim, sweety?" her voice said softly.

"I'm awake."

"Do you want to take the blindfold off?"

Didn't she have access to his thoughts when they were touching like this? "I've got to get to the bathroom and I have no idea where it is. Maybe you could just push me in the right direction."

"No." She paused, probably testing him to see how mad he would get over her refusal. He made a conscious effort to be calm. She chuckled. "It's okay, Tim. You can take it off. I'm not _that_ cruel."

"Did I even _think_ cruel? No, I didn't."

"No, but _I_ think it would be cruel to ask you to keep it on any longer. You gave me a perfect night where I didn't have to worry about you being repulsed by my looks. I'll never forget last night, Tim. Never. I should have let you take it off sooner, and I'm sorry. I was being selfish."

"No, it's okay. I had a great night too. Are you sure you're ready for me to see you? I mean, most women hate how they look in the morning, don't they?"

She sighed. "I hate how I look all the time. You may as well see the worst. Go ahead."

He reached up to his face, but froze. She was still lying so close that he could feel her muscles tense up. "Would you remove it for me?" He knew she could tell that he was aching to feel her soft fingers on his face and that he'd asked in order to lure her in so he could feel her body close. But letting her do it also gave her control of the speed and she could direct his gaze to her advantage too. Wouldn't that make her less tense?

"Of course," she said gently. Her soft, warm fingers touched his face, starting at his lower jaw. Both hands moved slowly and she touched him far more than was necessary for it to be any kind of coincidence. She knew what he wanted and she was giving it to him! When her whole palms rested on his cheeks and she'd slipped her fingers under the cloth, she hesitated and he felt his heartbeat against her hands.

And all of a sudden, it was light. Everything was blurry without his glasses, but he could see that her skin was as pale as his and her hair was a brownish blonde. Her eyes looked green, but it could have been a trick of the morning light. Maybe he just wanted them to be green.

She chuckled. "Do you like green?"

"I like any color that belongs to you."

"They're green," she confirmed.

"Oh. Good. Yes, I do like green."

"Are you going to put your glasses on?"

In a flash of insight, he said, "No."

"No? But don't you want to find the bathroom?"

He turned his head and found the blurry outline of a door frame. "Found it." He pointed at it with his thumb.

"Come on, Tim. I braced myself for this. Let's just get it over with."

"Why? Wendy told me that you didn't like to turn off your natural abilities in order to be around people. But you know they want privacy, so you just isolate yourself instead. Well, this is my natural sight. Glasses aren't natural. They're tools. I can save them for reading and work. I don't need them to be with you."

She shook her head. "That has to be the most beautiful thing you've ever said. I'm trying to hold back my feelings because I'm wary of your disappointment, but I can't hold them back anymore. I love you, Tim." Her voice wavered with emotion, but she didn't pause. "There. I said it first. I know you haven't decided what you feel about me. That's all right. I know you're still curious about what I look like, but I've never met anyone who is more worried about hurting my feelings than you are right now. Please put your glasses on. I know I'll be okay. I know you'll still be my friend. I can deal with anything if I have a friend like you."

_**Love?**__ You love me?_

_Yes. I love you. Look at me now and let yourself feel whatever comes._

He was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her, but he didn't want to miss her lips. He reached into his pocket, found his glasses, and fumbled to get them unfolded and on his face before the magical moment ended. He forgot about taking in her whole form and analyzing it against cultural and societal norms of beauty. He forgot about thinking logically to form a nice, rational argument he could use when he defended her appearance in the email he'd eventually compose as follow-up to the "preliminary report" he'd fired off to Lucas, Miguel, and Wendy while riding here in the limo. No. All he could think about was _finding_ her lips so he could press his own into them.

His glasses cleared the fog and he saw her face well enough to reach his goal. Heart pounding, he plunged into those luscious, pouting lips, pressing firmly, but not too hard. He closed his eyes directly after because he was too close to see anything anyway. Warm and tender, her lips were delicious without having any taste. Time stood still and he let joy fill him up and warm him down to the bone. He wasn't really thinking about how to breathe and by the time he realized he should have been breathing through his nose, he needed more air than he could get that way. He had to break the kiss in order to keep from passing out.

Gently, she pushed him off and broke directly into laughter. Melodious and contagious, he joined her as soon as he'd sucked in enough air. He saw her then, laughing. It didn't even occur to him that she was laughing _at_ him, nor was he much shocked by her appearance. Okay, so she didn't match society's present narrow standards of beauty. Screw society. Her hair was dishwater blonde and disheveled, but that was to be expected after sleeping. He wasn't hung-up on hair anyhow. Her face was square, her nose was big, and her eyes were set far apart, with too-deep sockets and overly-rounded eyelids where almond-shaped seemed more the norm. Her eyes were green, but not that deep emerald seen on magazine covers. The green was yellowed like the inside of an avocado. And the first thought that came to him was sincerely not 'ugly,' but 'damn, I really could go for some guacamole right now'.

She must have read his mind because she laughed at his thought even harder than before. She laughed so hard, she had to get up. Or maybe she had to use the restroom too. He saw then that she was quite a bit larger than the navy would accept, and therefore not what he was accustomed to seeing on _seaQuest_. She didn't fit in with the beach bikini babes and barflies he'd previously ogled over either. However, she was a downright stunning example of what master painters called Rubenesque. Mary wouldn't have hit him over the head with a canvas for painting her hips full and lovely, like another subject had done right before he gave up portraits for landscapes. Mary's hips didn't have to be exaggerated to look beautiful. They were voluptuous and perfect already.

She gasped.

"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching for her reflexively.

"_All right?_ I'm ecstatic! If I couldn't fall in love with a blind man, the next best thing was to find a painter who appreciated the concept of Rubenesque. I'm so sorry I doubted you, Tim. I didn't think anyone was capable of appreciating me, inside _or_ outside."

He drew her in and held her tight and she held tight right back.

"I want you to come into my mind so you can be as sure of me as I am of you. But it will be harder for me to give that to you, because you're not a Receiver. I'm really drained emotionally right now, so give me a while. Tonight, maybe, or tomorrow."

"Take all the time you need." He headed for the door between their rooms so he could use the restroom on his side while she used the one on hers. When he returned, she had brushed her hair and changed into something less wrinkled. He stood there, just looking. It wasn't really admiring, although he did try to analyze a bit to see how others could have twisted "plain" and "different" so harshly into "ugly". All his brainpower couldn't figure it out, but he decided he didn't care. She loved him. What else mattered? "So what now, Beautiful?"

"Why don't you go visit the museum?"

"You won't come with me?"

She sighed. "I can't. Agoraphobia isn't something I can just turn off and on. Maybe one day I can meet your friends, one at a time, when I can block them properly, but a public place is just too much. Go. Enjoy it and tell me all about it. Transmit while you're there if you want. I'd rather see it through your eyes than mine anyway."

"You're just going to stay cooped up here?" He waved his arms around the small room.

She smiled. "This, coming from a guy who _lives_ on a submarine. Yes, silly. I've got to make some calls and do some writing. Dinner tonight though?"

"At your place?"

"No, not yet. I ordered some organic fruits and vegetables that won't arrive until day after tomorrow. You're early, remember?"

"Can't say I'm sorry about it."

"Me either. But I don't have food to cook yet. We'll call room service or order in."

He wondered what all this was costing her. He wasn't exactly used to fancy five-star hotels and limos and first class plane tickets.

"Don't worry about it, Sweety. This is the closest thing I've had to a vacation in ten years. I think I can handle it." Mary moved in and let him kiss her again. He couldn't get enough of her. It was hard to leave after they'd spent the night together and shared so much. But she urged him, so he went. The limo had been engaged until her return trip, so the driver took him back to the city.

He wandered around the museum. The art was magnificent and he did enjoy it, but his mind was elsewhere. Mary had asked him to put his feelings into words last night. Why couldn't he do that? What exactly _were_ these feelings roiling around inside? She said she loved him. Did he love her? Or was he just using that word because it was sounded like the proper response? She would know if he wasn't sincere. It was almost a relief to know he couldn't lie to her. He was terrible at lying, at least to people he cared about. It wasn't that he felt pressure to say it back. He didn't. But he knew he had a lot of emotional energy invested, knew he felt _something_, he just didn't know what to call it.

The second night, they watched a movie and played a game, but mostly they talked and laughed and cuddled a lot. She gave him another massage just before bedtime, but she didn't invite him to stay in her room this time.

"Let me rest tonight and tomorrow you can come into my mind."

Would that help him decide how he felt? Tim would miss her body close to his, but he really did need time to think. And it was hard to think when she was so goshdarned _sexy_. She had probably felt how close he was to chucking virtue and giving in to hormones. He was embarrassed when the thought occurred, but he caught her smiling when he checked her reaction.

"There is no way we're going to do anything I have to confess to Father Baker," she said.

"C-confess? Wait, are you Catholic?"

"Not yet. I called Father Baker when you were at the museum. I'm considering converting."

"You don't have to do that for me."

"I know. If it's for anyone, it's for your mother."

"My mother?"

"She'd like me better if I were a good Catholic girl, wouldn't she?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"And you're thinking about asking me to meet her at Christmas, aren't you?"

Dang. Would he ever be able to surprise her? "Yes, but my mother's not that bad, really."

"No, I can tell she's not."

"You would change your faith just to make my mother happy?"

"Well, not if it didn't make you happy too. But I don't see it as changing my faith. My beliefs aren't that different right now. It's just going through the formalities. I could be Confirmed by Easter."

This seemed like serious commitment to him. "You asked me where I saw our relationship going. What about you?"

"That's really up to you. I already told you how I feel. If you'll help me drive to San Diego and explain to her about not touching, I'll go meet your mother."

"Are you going as my friend or girlfriend?"

She smiled and those avocado green eyes sparkled. "Tim, write this down: I. Love. You. If you want me as your girlfriend, all you have to do is ask."

"Mary, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes," she laughed. "See? That wasn't so hard."

She didn't push him again to put his feelings into words, but he was starting to think that maybe it _was_ love. He'd give it another day or two to be sure.

* * *

Mary knocked on the adjoining door the next morning. "Can I come in? I got you a mushroom omelet."

That sounded great. He stretched and yawned before he answered. "I'm not dressed yet."

"Stay under the covers," she said as she opened the door and entered.

"What if I'd just gotten out of the shower?" Tim teased as he put his glasses on and propped himself up on one elbow.

She waggled her brows. "I'd have got a free show."

He smirked, incredulous. She was just as modest as he was.

"Come on, I would have felt your panic and I'd have stopped."

Yes, that sounded more like it. He inhaled of breakfast's aroma. It smelled good. "You're so wonderful," he said lazily. He almost corrected it to '_that's_ so wonderful' but he knew it had been a Freudian slip.

She looked truly surprised. "I am?"

"Yes, you are. Mary, I think I could fall seriously in love with you."

She smiled, plucked up a mushroom slice from his plate and held it to his lips. He opened his mouth and let her pop it in. "I think you could too," she whispered. "Whatever you decide to call what you're feeling, it's more than I ever dreamed possible."

Hey, wait a minute. She'd been in his mind. Why didn't she already know what he felt? "What would _you_ call it?"

"It doesn't matter what I'd call it. You define yourself, not me. When you come into my mind, you'll see how I define love. But your definition doesn't have to be the same. Everyone is different."

He ate absently, concentrating on her. "Was that how Paul was? His definition of love was different?"

"Oh no. I'm not sure he ever knew what love was, but he never fooled himself that he loved me. I'm the only one he fooled."

"He's lucky he's dead," Tim said matter-of-factly.

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I'd make it my mission in life to make him sorry for what he did to you if he wasn't."

A smile. "I'm sure you would. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How do you feel about children? I didn't try to find out when I was reading you because I thought you should decide how you feel about me first."

"I don't know. Is it fair to have kids when you're at sea as much as I am?"

"It isn't whether you're with them all the time or not, Tim. It's what you do with the time you have. I do think there should be one full-time parent though."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "So what does that mean for us?"

She laughed. "It means you're lucky I'm a ghostwriter who doesn't have to tour books because I can work from home and raise as many children as you have time to come home and conceive—that is, assuming you want children at all. Do you?"

Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Were they really having this conversation? "C-come home and conceive?"

"Yes. Are you uncomfortable talking about it?"

"I—uh, yeah, I guess so."

"Okay, we don't have to talk about it anymore. For the record, yes, **_I_** want to have children and I don't think _a father_ being at sea is any obstacle to that." She emphasized 'a father' in such a way as he knew she was really talking about him, even in those vague terms. "You and I are better suited than just about anybody else to be apart. We can talk without vid-link, radio, Internex, satellites, and at any depth you happen to be. How many other people on _seaQuest_ can do that?"

He chuckled. "The captain and Dr. Westphalen."

"But they're not apart, are they?"

He sighed. It appeared they were going to talk about this whether he liked it or not. And maybe he should just get it out in the open. "That's just the point. They're not apart." But they weren't really talking about the captain and the doctor. Why was it so hard to talk about his fears? "I don't know if I can hold a relationship and family together without being here."

"You're afraid I'd leave you like your friend Crocker's wife did, aren't you?"

He felt badly to have thought it, but it was true. He nodded without looking at her face.

"Take my hands, Tim."

He set his fork down and took her soft hands in his. He closed his eyes.

_Can you hear me?_

_Yes._

_Can you feel a direction to my voice? Can you try to follow it?_

_It feels like it always feels. Like you're in my mind._

_Okay, let's start in your mind then. Open the beach and find me there._ In less than a second, the beach appeared and she was there, this time how she really looked. He wondered if this image-changing thing was a woman trait because he remembered Wendy changing her appearance in a major way the first time she entered his dream. Mary's mind-image approached his with hands open. _Take my hands in here and come with me._

He'd done a lot of weird things involving telepathy up to now. He was even starting to embrace his Transmission skills and feel comfortable with them. But going inside someone else's mind was new territory and he wasn't sure he was ready for it. Yet, ready or not, he did as she instructed and took her hands. Her mind image rose off the beach and flew, reminding him of how he'd flown with Wendy when they had to find the blood vessels in his back. But this time, she was leading and he was carried, not through one of his walls, but straight into the sun.

It was warm and bright, but never as hot as the real sun would be if you went right through it. On the other side of the light, he found himself in a library. It wasn't like a modern library with rows of computers and stiff chairs. It was like a private library with real wood walls and shelves of super-expensive leather-bound hardbacks. He just knew that if he pulled a book out, the pages would be gilded in gold leaf. A fire crackled in a fireplace and there were big upholstered chairs to sit in. _This is __**my**__ sanctuary_, Mary said softly.

_It's nice_, Tim said. He was glad he meant it. It would have been much more awkward to dislike the atmosphere of her mind than had he been repulsed by her appearance.

_Can you feel anything?_

_It's warm._ Was it the fire he felt or something else?

_Okay, good. Since you're not empathic, you may not be able to detect feelings the same way. But I hope my love is part of that warmth._ She gestured around her at the shelves. _These books contain my memories, thoughts, and feelings. When you hear telepaths talk about 'reading' someone, we don't usually do it this way, but for you, you can literally read me now. Go ahead, pick a book._

Some of the thicker books had titles on the spine that didn't interest him, like "My Opinions on Politics". But some were more specific, like "Why I Like Beach Boys Music". He pulled it down and opened it. The pages didn't just have words printed on them, but like some animated movie, the pages had moving images that leapt out and space where you could dive in. Beach Boys music played and he saw images of lazy days lying on a towel in the sun and big bonfires with lots of people gathered around, roasting marshmallows.

_A Spring Break at Galveston_, Mary whispered, _before Paul_. _Can you feel at all what I feel when I remember these?_

He didn't get a big surge of emotion, but there did seem to be something besides just recorded sights and sounds. _Nostalgia? Some regrets?_

She nodded._ You're right. Oh, nothing major. Just the standard wishing for youth kinda thing. I sometimes think I should go back to suppressing my senses so I can be with people again, like the old times. But then I try it and it always backfires._

He replaced the book on the shelf and then surveyed the room. It was cozy and inviting, but not big enough to contain all her memories and thoughts._ This can't be your whole mind. _

_No. You're right. But if you ask for something, it'll appear. Try, "How I Feel About Tim O'Neill."_

He didn't have to say anything. A book with that title appeared in his hands. It was large, but it was also heavier than it looked, like the pages could be made of lead or something. He looked down at it, hesitating_._

_Come on, you've been completely open with me. What are you afraid of? I already said that l-word._

_Yes, but if I see it here, I'll never be able to write it off as some remark you didn't really mean. And I would know if I mess this up, I could really hurt you and I couldn't live with myself if I did that. _He saw his breath turn into letters, the words transcribed exactly as he said them, and then drift right into the book he was holding.

She smiled. _Another reason I love you. Tim, are you afraid to be loved?_

Maybe he was. But her saying it so plain like that emboldened him and he grasped the book cover and threw it open. He'd half-expected cupids and valentine hearts to come flying out, but there were none of those. He felt warm again, this time to a much greater extent. The book felt almost too hot in his hands. He saw images inside of things he'd said and done. Some were expected, but some were downright silly, like how helpless and goofy he looked in a blindfold. The images danced and flew and he processed them faster than he could have in a movie. The book became hot and his hands felt like they might be burning, but the dazzling radiance and the intoxication that gripped him were too addicting. He couldn't let go.

Mary's hands wrapped around his and shut the book for him. He looked at his hands, expecting them to be blistered at the very least, but they were undamaged. The whole library was still hot, like an August day in the desert, but it wasn't sweaty or uncomfortable.

_So now you know. It's not a bluff or a lie. I really do love you. And I know how you feel about me even if you have no words for it. What you feel is good and it's enough for me right now. Don't run away from it. Face it and name it. And tell me when you've done that. I'll be here, _she patted his mind-image chest_, just waiting and loving you in the meantime._

_You can love me even if I don't love you?_

She nodded._ Yes, but not forever. The fire will go out eventually if you don't feed it anything. And if that happens, it's not your fault. Sometimes when one goes out on a limb, it breaks and one falls. That's the risk. You didn't ask me to go out on the limb. I did it all on my own._

He shook his head. _You're not going to fall if I'm here to catch you. I swear I won't let you fall._

His breath became words and drifted into the book. Mary smiled back and he could have sworn he could _smell_ contentment._ I know, Tim. I know._


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Kristin reviewed the events of the last few days in her mind. Nathan had allowed Katie to tell her and Lucas right after Nathan accepted her wonderful partnership proposal. She'd recently inherited a huge oil company and wanted to design and fund the submarine that no one else would pay for. Kristin understood why the politicians raved at Lucas's slideshow and gave a standing ovation to Nathan, only to turn around and stab him in the back when money was at issue. Bloody leeches is what they were. At least she understood funding spacecraft out of fear better than she understood funding them in the name of science while simultaneously short-changing research of their own planet's oceans.

Building the next _seaQuest_-class submarine as a private research vessel was more along the lines of Nathan's original dream, so he had to be ecstatic. Katie was even going to make him a full partner, not some token advisor. And Lucas, well Lucas forgot all about his 'bomb' in Congress the second Katie asked if he'd help her with designs. He and Katie took to drawing sketches and hatching ideas right there in the kitchen. They stayed up until wee hours of the morning until Katie finally said she had to go.

"We don't have to hang around Washington anymore," Nathan had whispered in bed. "We can go home now."

"Actually, Nathan, I need to go back to England for a few days. When I came here, I didn't know if I was going to get back on _seaQuest_ or not, so I left most of my belongings behind. I still have a flat rented until the end of the year."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. I think you and Lucas should stay here and spend a little time with just the two of you. Let him take you to the Smithsonian and walk your pants off like he did me. How about we meet back in Florida next week? We can finalize our wedding plans and make arrangements."

"Have we set a date?" he asked.

"No, we haven't. But we should. What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Hey, my dress whites are waiting at the cleaners. Don't you need a dress though?"

"Actually, I already have a dress. You've seen me in it."

This earned some raised brows from her fiancé.

"I still have Lillian Straitharen's ball gown."

"You're kidding! From the _George_?"

She nodded. She'd been wearing it when they made a hasty retreat from the old sunken cruise liner they found on the bottom of the Atlantic. "I sent it to a history professor friend of mine back in London and he was supposed to get it to a museum. It _is_ in pristine condition, you know."

Nathan nodded.

"Well, it's a good thing I did or it would have gone down with _seaQuest I_ in that lava bed. But Professor Smythe died last summer and someone found the box among all his belongings, never opened. My name was on the return address. So the package was returned to me and I just haven't had the heart to take care of it yet. I know I was possessed and all, but some part of me remembers how you looked the first time you saw me wearing it."

"Stunned, if I remember correctly."

She smiled. "So I take it you approve then? In a way, Lillian _gave_ it to me. She made me put it on in the first place. I see no point in wasting a lot of money on some silly dress I'll only wear once when this one will do."

Nathan smirked. "You know, Kristin, you don't _have_ to be practical when it comes to your wedding."

She scoffed. "I did the lavish, indulgent wedding once already. It's vastly overrated. I'm sure we can put the money to better use."

"Whatever you want."

"That's just one of the things I need to take care of back home. But back to the wedding date. How much time do we need?"

"We haven't talked about a honeymoon. Do you want to go somewhere special?"

She shook her head. "We do enough traveling on _seaQuest_. I say we go back to our island and relax with no one to bother us."

"Then we need to find Lucas other accommodations for a week or two. He'd feel awkward even if we didn't object."

"Ben and Katie?"

"Maybe. But they've got a lot of paperwork and planning to do before they can get down to the exciting parts they need Lucas for. Katie was hesitant about telling him because she thought he'd abandon _seaQuest_ when I needed him. And that means she didn't think she'd need him until the next tour started. I'm really not too concerned though. Miguel and Tony both invited him to come stay with their families. Tony sees Darwin a lot and Miguel has pretty cousins. Lucas will have a hard time making up his mind."

"But no matter what, we should see him on his birthday."

Nathan nodded. "Agreed. And have him home for Christmas."

"And not long after that, the next tour starts, so what are we looking at?"

"First week of December at the latest."

Kristin pulled out the electronic pocket planner that sat on the bedside table. "Saturday the third?"

"I'm open."

"December 3rd it is then. Let's have your wonderful Best Man whip us up some invitations on his computer. I'll email him my list. Most of mine won't actually come, just family that should get an invitation as a courtesy."

"I'll find us a caterer in New Cape Quest, but you'd better engage the florist. The botanist in me goes a little crazy when I walk in and see them hacking up plants for the sake of art."

She laughed. She'd have to remember his botany sympathies when she bought flowers. "We're keeping this small and simple, right?"

"Yes. Just close friends on a little celebration cruise. Nothing fancy."

The day she left, Kristin finally tracked down Cynthia in Brazil and asked if she could make it to the wedding and be her maid of honor. She didn't really hold out much hope that her daughter would make the effort because of the transportation costs, but it would have been inconsiderate not to let Cynthia decide on her own. She did indeed decline, but at least she was cordial and acted happy for her mother.

Kristin asked Katie to be her maid of honor. They'd been good friends on the first tour, gravitating toward each other in the shortage of females aboard, not to mention she'd saved Nathan's life and she was going to be his business partner. Katie accepted. Kristin also asked Wendy to be a bridesmaid. She hadn't known her very long, but they had really hit it off when she spent those few days with them and it would show the rest of the crew that she held no ill will over the rumors.

She realized both women were quite a bit younger than her, but they weren't any younger than Cynthia, and therefore they didn't seem any less acceptable. She didn't try to dictate what they wore. Katie had the right to wear dress whites since she was back in the reserves and she might want to be in uniform with all the males dressed likewise. Then again, she might want to turn Ben Krieg's head with a knockout dress. She could afford anything in the world she wanted and a wedding was the best excuse to buy a dress if ever there was one.

Going back to England was a chore, but it had to be done. She'd dropped everything so fast in order to get to the states when she heard that _seaQuest_ had reappeared out of nowhere. She'd ended up having to wait over a week once she got to Florida, but it had been well worth the wait. Not only did Nathan want her back as CMO, but he was ready to marry her. She didn't mind being discreet, but she resented having to _hide_ as if being in love broke some sort of international law. They were both adults and it wasn't as if she were trying to gain favors or a promotion or anything. She still had absolute control over Medbay and he still ruled everything else on the boat. Neither love nor marriage nor a hurricane was going to change that and Kristin wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Kristin emptied her flat in Birmingham. She sold furniture, threw away anything superfluous, and sent anything important on a slow boat to Bridger's Island. She also cleaned out research notes and equipment she'd left in Cambridge. England would always be her homeland, but she couldn't be _at home_ there anymore. Now, home was where Nathan was: _seaQuest_ or their island. She'd even started to think of that cute cottage on the military base in Virginia as home for a while. She might come back for visits or professional conferences, but she wanted her belongings to be in her new home on the other side of the pond.

She talked to Joshua while she was there, briefly. He was looking forward to coming back to _seaQuest_. She invited him to the wedding, but he couldn't afford the passage across the Atlantic twice or a place to stay between the wedding and the tour. He did offer what sounded like sincere congratulations though.

* * *

It wasn't long before she was back in Florida with Lucas and Nathan. The navy didn't have any spare housing available for them, but when Lucas put out an email for help, Tim O'Neill said they could stay at his house at Fort Gore. Evidently, he was staying in Oklahoma City until the wedding rehearsal. His little bachelor pad was really small with just one bedroom, but Lucas didn't mind the couch and it was only going to be a few weeks.

James Brody invited them all to Thanksgiving dinner with his wife and new baby, as well as some of his wife's relatives. Evidently, he had no family of his own, although Kristin thought he was the one that Lucas told her had a mother in cryogenic freeze. How horrible would it be to have a beautiful new family and not be able to tell your mother that you were married or that she had a grandson? Kristin would have to remember to be sensitive to the young lieutenant's unique past if ever she had him in Medbay.

Lucas spent a lot of his time swimming out in the ocean with Darwin. Kristin joined him a couple of times, but she had too many other things to do to be able to play as much as she would have liked. There'd be time for that after the wedding. She could hardly wait.

Nathan stressed a little over weather reports as their date neared. She shared his concern. She didn't want to be in a sailboat if there were the slightest chance of a storm. Hurricane Sheila had forever ruined her for taking any chances with surface vessels. But the tropical storm that concerned him turned the wrong way and eventually fizzled out. They would monitor the weather during the cruise, but it looked like smooth sailing all the way.

December 3rd dawned bright and clear. It was breezy and a mild 75 degrees, perfect for sailing. Chief Kendall, or rather Captain Kendall, as they would call him on _skyQuest_, did all the pre-trip inspections and made sure the trimaran was ready. Lieutenant O'Neill arrived back in town to help Kendall with preparations. As a last-minute surprise, Commander Ford flew in from Nepal just in time to join the festivities. Nathan and Kristin both welcomed him. Kendall, Ford, O'Neill, Piccolo, Brody, Krieg, Lucas, and the big GELF Dagwood all wore turquoise polo shirts and white Bermuda shorts while crewing to Cuba.

Admiral and Mrs. Noyce, Malcolm and Caesar Lansdowne, and Manny Crocker were among the guests who stood on the upper deck, enjoying the ride. Lucas had rigged a sound system for them to play music. Soothing steel drum melodies played while everyone chatted. Nathan, Kristin, Wendy, and Katie talked with the guests until they were almost to Cuba. Then they excused themselves below deck to change.

After Miguel was aboard, Kendall took _skyQuest_ out of sight of land and dropped the anchor. Without the need for sails or the solar jets, several of the crew could be excused to participate in the ceremony. Tim, James, and Jonathan changed from their crewing polo shorts into their dress white uniforms. Lucas had a very nice white dress shirt, a white vest, and white slacks so that he didn't look out of place with all the men in uniform.

Malcolm knocked on Kristin's door. She opened it to see his eyeballs bug out when he saw her. "Wow. Nathan better marry you quick before we throw him overboard and steal his bride." He looked exactly as she remembered him, in a Hawaiian print shirt and khaki pants.

She chuckled. "You're here to give me away, remember?"

"Do I have to?" he asked playfully.

She kissed his cheek. "Yes. And thanks for not being sore."

"Well, if I had to lose, I'm glad it was to a friend." He offered his elbow, but she took one look at the narrow hall and shook her head. They would have to go single-file until they got up on deck.

Katie and Wendy had evidently gone shopping together and bought elegant yet understated evening gowns in turquoise and white. They weren't an exact match, but the colors and style were too close to have been coincidence. Jonathan and James unfolded chairs and helped seat all the guests. Wendy and Tim walked the aisle first, followed by Katie and Lucas. The sound system cued up a lovely Celtic rendition of the Wedding March and Malcolm escorted Kristin down the aisle. Her lovely satin gown shimmered in the bright Caribbean sun and Kristin imagined that Lillian looked down and approved.

Nathan and the chaplain waited at the "altar" which was just a podium covered with ivy, plumeria, and hibiscus. The captain had gone clean-shaven since he didn't have to look 'distinguished' for stodgy Congressmen anymore. Kristin loved the beard, but she also had a soft spot for the clean look he had sported when she first met him, right in the middle of an argument with Commander Ford. He looked younger without it, and his tanned face set off the white in that uniform very nicely indeed. Her groom was beyond handsome.

The chaplain performed an Anglican ceremony in her honor, although she'd never given any indication it mattered that much. Lucas had her beautiful 'love fish' green gold ring so that Nathan could place it on her finger during the ceremony. She didn't know whether Nathan or Lucas realized it had probably been designed as a Pisces zodiac symbol. It didn't matter. It was perfect and she loved it.

When they finished their vows and kissed, Kristin felt time stand still. The only sound was the breeze and some ropes flapping against the masts. Just as Nathan finished, Darwin jumped out of the water less than a foot from the starboard side of the trimaran. He got enough height to be seen by all the guests and from the whispers it was evident that everyone thought Nathan had trained him to do it and even signaled him do it at that precise moment. Ha! Like they could have planned such a thing.

The chaplain declared them husband and wife, and the deck erupted in loud whoops and whistles. Kristin laughed. What else should she expect when ninety percent of the guests were sailors? Lucas put on the party music and the crew who were still in polo shirts and Bermudas started hauling food out from the large coolers they'd brought aboard. The few ladies on board gathered around for Kristin to throw the bouquet. Kristin overheard Wendy ask Lucas where someone named 'Lonnie' was. "We invited her, but I guess she thought Wyoming was too far away," he whispered back.

Since Kristin didn't know her, she figured it must have been one of the newer crewmembers. But if Jonathan could make it from Nepal, she wondered how Wyoming could be out of range. Then again, there was no reason anyone on leave had to drop everything just to attend their captain's wedding either. If she was coming back for the next tour, Kristin would meet her soon enough. Although she had limited movement in the satin gown, Kristin somehow managed to throw the bouquet over the heads of all the young ladies and right into the lap of Tim O'Neill. Startled, he threw it back in the general direction it came from and Katie ended up with it.

Everyone ate and drank and danced the rest of the afternoon away. Kendall had the GELF turn the capstan to raise the anchor. Jonathan, James, and Tim changed back into their polo shirts to help get the sails up and get the trimaran underway. The solar collectors had been charging batteries all day, so the deck lights didn't require any engines to function. The moon was nearly full and the sky was cloudless, so Kendall had no trouble finding Bridger's Island to drop off the newlyweds. The plan was to drop off Miguel and Lucas back in Cuba next, then return to New Cape Quest with everyone else. Kristin could tell that Nathan had complete confidence in Captain Kendall.

They waved from the beach as the _skyQuest_ disappeared into the starry night, carrying all their friends.

"Well, Mrs. Bridger, shall we go find a room?" Nathan teased.

Kristin played along. "Find? Why, have you lost your own house?"

"_Our_ house."

"That's even worse," she said with mock indignation, "losing _my_ house before I even got to see it."

Nathan scooped her up off her feet and carried her so her gown didn't trail in the sand. "Kristin, how do you feel?" he asked after he set her down at the foot of the stairs.

"Happy, Nathan. I feel so happy."

"Good. I intend to keep you that way. Shall we?" He gestured toward the door.

"We _are_ alone, right? No vid-links left on? No holographic images of Carol?"

"Completely alone," he breathed. However, the water was just twenty feet away and Darwin chirped loudly from near the dock just then. "Except for a dolphin crashing the party," he amended.

"Go find your own mate, Darwin!" she called. Then she entered the honeymoon home on their own private island with the man of her dreams.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Lucas didn't mind being pawned off on Miguel. It would have been incredibly awkward to be hanging around the captain and his wife on their honeymoon. They might be old, but they were friskier than his parents had ever been, even long before the divorce. Lucas knew he'd been honored to have as big a part as he did in the wedding. Man, those two crazy lovebirds looked happy. The captain was even happy that Congress had refused to give him money, because now he and Katie could do whatever they wanted and they didn't have to play by government rules. And not only that, but Katie wanted him, Lucas, to help design the new submarine too!

Lucas had been glad to see his old friend, Ben, but he'd changed. A couple of years in the harsh reality of flipping soy burgers for long hours had given him a new perspective. It probably didn't hurt that Katie had recently put him in charge of her newfound fortune either. Lucas thought Ben was probably more careful with Katie's money than he would have been with his own. Yet, who _was _Ben Krieg apart from all the get-rich-quick schemes? He was still happy-go-lucky and optimistic, but more savvy and less reckless now.

Ben and Katie had both come to _skyQuest_'s slip when they were loading up food and chairs and tables and stuff. Katie got Kendall to show her all the cool features of the trimaran and she complemented him on the designs. Kendall was really excited to have an engineer like Katie gush over all his special features. Ben watched them both without saying anything for thirty minutes, but Lucas saw the dollar signs flashing in his old friend's eyes. Ben asked Kendall if he'd be interested in producing his design commercially under the banner of Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns Limited. By the end of the wedding, Ben had Kendall sweet-talked into looking at a contract. Wasn't that exactly what the captain had tried to get him to do from the beginning? Now the captain's new company would be building gigantic submarines and collapsible sailboats.

Even Lucas could see Ben was making a good move on this one. People wouldn't need expensive slips or trailers to own a sailboat anymore. A boat could be broken down and transported in the back of a pickup and stored in a standard garage. They'd soon have so many orders, they wouldn't be able to keep up. They'd be employing shipbuilders all over the world making this boat. And that meant they'd have plenty of profits to sustain the non-commercial side of the business. No one would have to fret about research funding ever again.

So yeah, Lucas looked forward to spending time with Ben again. But right now, Ben and Katie had too much traveling and paperwork to do. Lucas would stay in Cuba for ten days and then he and Miguel would both go back to New Cape Quest and bunk at Tim's house. Tony was planning Lucas's big eighteenth birthday bash and more people could come if they held it in Florida. Tim was at home while Lucas was with Miguel, but the lieutenant was planning to go back to Oklahoma City soon because he and Mary were driving from Oklahoma to California for Christmas.

Tim had been pretty cool about loaning out his place to anyone who'd needed it all leave, but he warned them all, "I'm giving up my base housing, so come January first, it won't be available any more." Everyone had already figured out that he'd moved to Oklahoma. Tim didn't kiss and tell, but he did say Mary was his girlfriend and he was taking her home to meet his mother. Didn't take a genius to figure that one out. Lucas and Miguel both pressed him for details, but he was keeping pretty tight-lipped. Maybe they could get him to talk once they were all back on _seaQuest_ again.

Captain Bridger and Dr. Westphalen's honeymoon would be over by Lucas's birthday. They said they'd come to the birthday party and then take Lucas back to Bridger's Island for Christmas and New Years with them.

That was, assuming Lawrence Wolenczak didn't suddenly decide to play dad. Lucas had stopped reminding him, inviting him, and pestering him. He had no reason to believe his father would bother showing up, and frankly, he didn't really care. He was tired of getting his hopes up just to end up disappointed. So he stopped thinking about his father. He had friends and he had a different kind of family and it was a helluva lot better than the real thing.

Miguel's family was really nice, but only Miguel and his brother Marco spoke any English, and Marco not so well. But the food was fantastic. No junk here at all. It was real, homemade stuff with lots of cheese and great spicy sauces and plenty of pork and chicken. Dr. Westphalen could cook, and Lucas had appreciated her lessons, but she was kind of a basic and simple cook while the Ortiz women were culinary masters. Lucas was beginning to think there might not be a Spanish word for 'snack'. Every meal was like a huge spread of half a dozen dishes. Granted, he discovered they used leftovers quite a bit and if he missed something at one meal, it turned up again soon enough. Still, his pants were starting to get harder to button.

Miguel hadn't been joking about the ogling cousins either. Serious babe material, as Tony would say. And while Lucas agreed they were really hot to look at and fun to exchange smiles with, he couldn't get too excited about them if he couldn't communicate. He didn't mind them staring and whispering and giggling, but he didn't speak enough Spanish to exchange anything beyond simple greetings. Tony said that was the best kind of babe—one that didn't talk, but Lucas had far different taste in girls than Tony.

Miguel took him aside. "You know you're making my cousins crazy, right? Tim figured it out. The more you play hard-to-get, the more they want you."

Lucas frowned. "Miguel, I'm not _playing_ anything. I can't even talk to them."

He chuckled. "Doesn't matter."

"What do they want from me?"

"Do you want me to ask?"

Lucas scoffed. "See what I mean? This is crazy. Do they expect you to come with us on a date and translate?" Actually, with the way they were making eyes and looking at him, Lucas was beginning to think his cousins might be the type who just wanted to go dirty dancing, but he didn't dare tell Miguel what he suspected. What if he was just misreading cultural cues?

"No way." Miguel shook his head. "If I get involved, they'd drop you like a hot tamale."

At least that would get them to back off a bit. "Yeah, tell them I'd like to take them out, but only if you come with us."

Miguel shrugged and told his cousins what Lucas suggested. They pouted with fake-forlorn faces for about three days. But it didn't last. Lucas saw Sylvia pointing to him while whispering to Miguel. She left the room and then Miguel came and sat next to him. "Sylvia says she can't resist your eyes. She'll let me come along if I promise not to get in the way."

Lucas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He still thought it was a waste of time to try to get to know someone through a translator, but he didn't want to be rude. His solution had backfired, so now he was stuck. "I thought you said they'd drop me like a hot tamale."

"Hey, man, what do I know? Me and Marco have tried to set up our cousins before, and they just slap us and call us idiots. But then I start bringing home guys from _seaQuest_ and they've turned into these hungry vultures." He pounced on invisible prey with his hands. "It's a good thing you need a translator because I might have to _protect_ you." He grinned with that knowing look in his eye. He probably thought Lucas would enjoy the attention, and to some extent, he was right.

"Okay, so where should we go?" This was Miguel's backyard and _his_ cousin and even though it was flattering, Lucas was mainly going along to be polite.

"Jose's Cantina. She can show you off to all her friends there. You can have _one_ cerveza." Miguel held up his index finger when he said it. His warning tone suggested that cerveza was some kind of alcoholic beverage. Lucas was close enough to legal age that he should be allowed to decide that for himself, but Miguel was probably worried what might happen if the captain found out. It was an unwritten and unspoken law that any navy guy who happened to be with Lucas would answer to the captain if anything went wrong, and being on leave or in a foreign country would never be an excuse. The teen had a feeling that particular law of the universe wasn't going to relax much even after he was eighteen.

But Lucas wasn't looking to get plastered. One drink would make him look sociable and adult and he didn't need anything more. "Cool. But what do we talk about?"

Miguel laughed. "Sylvia's not a big talker. But don't worry. I'm sure she'll keep you busy."

Lucas wore one of his nicer shirts. Not the one from the wedding, but not his old oversized stuff either. This was a definite date shirt. Miguel, however, went really grubby, in holey jeans, a ketchup-stained t-shirt, an old baseball cap, and dark sunglasses.

"I didn't even recognize you," Lucas whispered to his friend.

"I'm supposed to be invisible." He lowered his shades and rolled his eyes which Lucas took to mean Sylvia had been the one to assign him this 'job'.

"No, you're supposed to translate. Don't even think about disappearing on me."

Miguel slapped his back. "Don't worry, buddy. I got your back."

Sylvia showed up in a clingy little red miniskirt and a tube top. Lucas almost forgot that she was Miguel's cousin and couldn't understand a lick of English.

Jose's Cantina was a quaint bar-and-grill type joint. There was a salsa band playing and lots of people drinking and laughing. Sylvia dragged him off to the dance floor and it did seem to Lucas like she was showing him off. He couldn't decide whether it was fun or degrading. On the one hand, it felt great that so many girls found him attractive and actually envied Sylvia because she had landed a date with him. But on the other hand, it all seemed rather empty. Sylvia didn't try to find out what he was interested in and when he asked about _her_ interests, she glared at Miguel. Without warning, she planted a wet kiss on Lucas's lips, as if that answered his question. Lucas flashed Miguel an apologetic look. He folded his arms, but he gave Lucas a reassuring wink.

Lucas took her back out to the dance floor to keep things from getting out of hand. After about an hour, he was too tired to keep it up any longer. He knew he was acting like a party pooper, but he just wanted to get out of this noisy place and relax. He finished the last of his beer and leaned in to whisper to his host. "Man, she's wearing me out. Do you think you could tell her I'm sick or something? I don't want to be rude."

Miguel smiled and it occurred to Lucas that he had been ready to leave a lot sooner. "No problemo." He raised his voice over the din of the crowd and yelled something in Spanish while pushing Lucas toward the door. The crowd laughed. Miguel walked really fast and Lucas followed his lead. They didn't wait for Sylvia and Lucas gathered that was intentional. He wished he knew what Miguel said, but he suspected it was one of those questions better left unasked. _No more dates with girls who don't speak English or French_, he vowed silently.

Marco suggested an all-male fishing trip after that. So Miguel, Marco, Lucas, and Uncle Juan packed up some camping gear and took a pickup truck to a lake. Lucas got eaten alive by mosquitoes, but other than that, it was a great trip. They stayed until the day before Lucas and Miguel were supposed to go back to Florida. Mamacita Ortiz had insisted on throwing a little birthday and farewell party in one. "Little" had been Miguel's translation. Obviously, his mother didn't really use that word because the party they threw was anything but little. About twenty dozen relatives sprung up out of nowhere and there was more food than _seaQuest_ cooks put out in a week.

They served the same great dishes the Ortiz women had been serving during his whole visit, but they also put out a second buffet table just to hold flan, pan dulce, and a big cake with Feliz Cumpleaños piped on in frosting. Lucas ate until he was stuffed and then some.

He and Miguel took a ferry from Havana to Key West and then the bus to New Cape Quest. Tim had left some non-perishables in his cupboards, but after all that great food in Cuba, Lucas didn't find anything in a can or a box too appealing, at least not within the first twenty-four hours. About the time he got hungry, it was time to meet up with Tony. Half the crew of _seaQuest_ had pitched in to rent the local veteran's hall, buy food, and get a DJ for the birthday bash. Tony planned the party, mostly because he was local and he didn't think anyone else would make sure there was never a dull moment.

Every _seaQuest_ crewmember who had been at the captain's wedding, except for Tim, came to the birthday. Tim emailed a very generous gift certificate to Lucas's favorite online retailer and gave up his house, so he was easily forgiven. Dr. Smith made another trip down from Maryland and the captain and Dr. Westphalen had planned their honeymoon around being here too. Ben and Katie flew in from Hawaii on her jet copter, although Lucas would have understood if they couldn't make it. The only person glaringly absent, once again, was Lonnie.

"Is Lonnie okay, Doc?" he asked Wendy when he cornered her alone. The music was loud enough that they wouldn't be overheard, but not so loud they had to raise their voices.

She sighed. "I don't know, Lucas. She doesn't answer my emails. I'm a little concerned, but there's not much I can do if she doesn't want to talk to me."

"If she transferred off _seaQuest_, would we hear about it?"

"The captain might know, but certainly not me, at least not until we actually get aboard."

Lucas was pretty sure the captain would have mentioned something like that if he knew about it. Then again, he was probably purposely ignoring anything work-related right now. He'd just got married and he only had a few weeks left before it was back to the grind. Lucas was rather looking forward to it, because _seaQuest_ was home, but he was also looking forward to spending the holidays on the island.

The party had been going for thirty minutes when Nick and Juliana walked in the door. "Surprise!" they both called.

Lucas high-fived Nick and gave Juliana a hug. "How did you guys know?"

Nick smirked. "We're hackers—duh. Happy birthday, man."

Lucas found he had a lot more energy to dance with Juliana than he had had with Sylvia. He also felt a lot more relaxed with her when there were no plans to get alone and no sign of her older brother breathing down her neck. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, dancing, eating, and sitting around telling embarrassing stories about each other and embellished tales about their _seaQuest_ adventures. Ben, Katie, and Kristin heard enough about the second tour that they would be able to fake it if they had to.

Brody brought his new wife, Valerie. She was pretty and had a good sense of humor (wouldn't she have to, to marry Jim?) but they both got that exhausted new-parent look at about 2300 and excused themselves to go home to their infant son. Lucas thanked them for coming.

Ben and Tony started a 'friendly' little dance competition and had the floor cleared and everyone watching and cheering them on until Ben threw his back out doing a flying splits. Katie got a huge kick out of teasing him about it, but only after she made sure he wasn't seriously hurt. Dr. Westphalen also checked him out, just to be sure, ribbing him the whole time about getting older.

The party finally broke up at 0200 because the hall owners had security and insurance concerns that neither the captain's persuasive pleas nor Ben's attempts at bribery would assuage. Lucas thanked everyone profusely for coming. It had been an absolute blast—the best time he'd ever had at a birthday party. Lucas invited Nick and Juliana to come crash with him and Miguel at Tim's place, but they had sleeper berths on a transport sub that was leaving in less than four hours on a circuit that included Node 3. They didn't want to worry about possibly missing their ride home.

The captain and doctor had a motorboat moored in the harbor, but they weren't going to leave until daylight. Lucas told them to enjoy one more night alone and promised to meet them at the docks at 1000 hours. Miguel took Tim's bed and Lucas fell onto the couch and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

_**A/N: Did 3rd season canon ever give a name to the mother of Brody's son? I can't stand to watch Brody die again to find out. If anyone knows it, or doesn't mind watching, please let me know and I'll change "Valerie" to the right name. Thanks.**_


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Lucas awoke to Miguel shaking him. "Don't you be late meeting the captain, or he'll be showing up here and asking _me_ questions."

The teen yawned and forced himself up to a sitting position. "Thanks," he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. He found some instant coffee and frozen waffles. There was no syrup in any of the cupboards, so he ran them through the toaster and then ate them like toast. That was better anyway because he didn't have to wash any dishes. He found two vid-link messages, one from each parent. He drew a deep breath and hit the play button. Dad's sounded almost word-for-word the same as the one he'd sent about this time last year. Sorry I can't be with you, yada, yada, yada. Mom's was pretty typical too, only she took the time to bash Dad because he hadn't picked him up at the docks and spent three whole days with him like she had. Like it was a competition.

Mom's ended with, "Hope the card made it okay. Love you."

So she'd sent a card. Lucas wondered where it might be. Virginia? Cuba? Bridger's Island? It certainly wasn't at Tim's, but he'd only been here a few days and wasn't staying. If Mom used the captain's name, it would find him eventually. She probably sent a gift card or something. With his birthday and Christmas so close, she only had to make the effort once a year. And now that he was an adult, neither of them had to do that anymore. He was emancipated, finally. No more stupid reports on where he was or what he was doing. If they wanted to find him, then _they_ could play the try-to-get-through game. He was glad he would be spending some time with Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns, if for no other reason but to make himself harder to find if they went looking.

Lucas packed hastily, stuffing everything more densely than usual because he had birthday presents to add. Miguel walked him to the marina to find the Bridgers' motorboat. They arrived ten minutes early and Lucas noticed that the captain casually checked his diving watch and smiled ever so slightly. _He was pleased_. Lucas made a mental note to show up for shifts on time or early if possible. No one should have to make allowances for him anymore.

"Thanks for taking him home while we were on our honeymoon," Captain Bridger said to Miguel. Dr. Westphalen came up on deck, smiling and nodding her assent to the thanks.

The Cuban stood straight when he spoke, even though he was dressed very casually. "Not a problem at all. We were glad to have him."

The captain and doctor both shook his hand in turn. Dr. Westphalen leaned in and kissed his cheek and whispered something too, but Lucas didn't try to eavesdrop.

"Tell everyone I said 'Feliz Navidad,'" Lucas said as he and Miguel hooked thumbs and clasped near the wrist, youth style.

"You got it. See you back on _seaQuest_." Miguel took off and the other three waved.

Lucas started to step onto the boat, but suddenly stopped himself. "Uh, permission to come aboard, Captain?"

Dr. Westphalen laughed, but the captain smiled. "Absolutely," he said, gesturing him with a wide sweep of his arm.

Lucas grinned and hopped on board. The motorboat wasn't nearly as big as _skyQuest_, probably just enough room for a few people to go back and forth to the mainland for supplies and such. "Where should I put my duffel?" he asked.

"Below deck." He pointed toward the opening where his bride had emerged.

"You guys sure I'm not intruding?" Lucas asked, looking back and forth between both of them.

"Positive," Dr. Westphalen said.

The captain nodded. Lucas ran down to leave his duffel and then back up on deck. "You want me to drive?" he asked, half-jokingly.

The older man looked like his first instinct was to say no, but he bit back his initial reaction. "I guess you could handle this." He beckoned him to the tiny bridge. "Come on, I'll show you the controls." The captain started the engine and narrated the steps as they got underway.

Lucas expected he'd get out to open sea and give him a heading and leave it at that, but he didn't. He pulled out the chart and showed him the planned course, explaining all the little reasons he'd planned it this way, including currents he didn't want to fight, staying clear of a spot where he knew manatees liked to congregate, veering closer to land in case of problems, and the fact that he'd emailed Ford and Brody a copy of his float plan. "We can deviate if we need to, but it's always a good idea to let someone know what the plan is, just in case."

He nodded. Having been on more than one search and rescue, Lucas knew that only too well.

"Can you follow this?" The captain pointed to the chart.

The anxious teen looked at the chart and the instruments to be sure he understood them. They weren't exactly like the ones on shuttle launches, sea crabs, and _seaQuest_ that he'd watched others operate so many times, but they were close enough. "I think so. You're not going anywhere, are you?"

He chuckled. "I'll be around if you get stuck, but I'm going to let you do it."

Lucas grinned. "Very cool."

So the captain and his wife sat on deck and enjoyed the ride while Lucas drove to Bridger's Island. He only needed help a couple of times when the wind caused leeway. They made good time and got home well before dark. _Home_. Lucas had only been here once before, but now he thought of it as home because this was where his family lived. He didn't have to call them 'Dad' and 'Mom'. Lucas actually found those terms kind of insulting because of what he had to compare them to. But he knew they liked having him around almost as much as he liked being there. Sure, it had been fun to go to Miguel's for a couple of weeks, but even if they'd spoken perfect English, he couldn't have thought of the Ortiz family as his own. He was a guest in Cuba, but not here.

Dr. Westphalen brought a bag off the boat with boxes of Christmas lights inside. At first, Lucas wondered when she'd had time to go shopping, but then he realized they could have been in Florida for two days before the party and he would never have known. Their Christmas tree was a potted banana tree they'd brought indoors. They covered the trunk and branches in lights and then hung strings of popcorn and cranberries all over it. It looked ridiculous and they all got a huge laugh out of it, but no one really thought cutting down an evergreen and hauling it to the tropics would make them any happier.

They had all agreed not to exchange any store-bought gifts. Captain Bridger gave Lucas a very old copy of _Treasure Island_. A real, honest-to-goodness dead-tree book with a hard buckram cloth cover that showed wear, but the binding was intact. He opened it carefully to find it wasn't old enough to be a first edition (the thought crossed his mind when he saw it had no dust jacket), just well-used. It had been Robert's. "I gave it to him when he was twelve," the captain said with a sort of sad, nostalgic tone.

"I'll take good care of it," Lucas promised.

The doctor made some special cookies from a secret family recipe, utilizing ingredients Lucas suspected had been imported all the way from England. The captain and Lucas went fishing and then cleaned and cooked all the fish over an open fire. They had plenty of native fruits and vegetables to add to their fish and cookies, so it was a lovely meal despite it being rather unorthodox for Christmas. After everyone was full, they sat outside around a campfire, listening to carols on a portable MP3 stereo.

"Sorry we missed Rockefeller Center," the captain said.

"I'm not," Lucas said in return. "This is way better. I'd rather be barefoot any day."

"The big tree might have been nice to see," Dr. Westphalen commented.

Lucas chuckled. "I'll find a picture on the Internex."

The captain stoked the fire and gazed out at the sea as he spoke. "New York wouldn't have been bad, but I can't say I miss Washington. That place always leaves a foul taste in my mouth."

"So do we or don't we need to hear Bing Crosby dreaming of a White Christmas?" the doctor asked while thumbing through the music selections.

"Dreaming is good," Lucas said lazily. It wouldn't be Christmas without Bing. Plus, dreaming of snow was a lot better than experiencing it.

"I agree," said the captain in a tone that suggested he wasn't thinking about snow or even Christmas at all.

* * *

The next week was spent fishing, swimming with Darwin, and lounging in the sun on their private beach. The three also took several long walks to explore the rest of the island. Katie sent some preliminary submarine ideas in an email, which Lucas discussed with the captain and which they worked on when the sun went down and they couldn't see to swim or fish. The doctor spent some time hand-writing appreciation notes to all the wedding guests and those who'd sent gifts without coming in person.

While the leisure time was great, Lucas was starting to get bored. "When do we go back to _seaQuest_?" he asked the captain. "Tony said he saw them towing her out of dry dock."

"January 5th is the day crew have to report in, but the doctor and I are going on the 3rd to get things ready."

"Can I come early too?" He realized belatedly that he sounded too much like a little kid who was sick of summer vacation and eager to get back to school.

But the captain smiled. "Of course. I'd rather have my computer systems all checked out _before_ we get underway." He paused a moment. "Tell me, how did Piccolo reach you with his news?"

Only Dr. Westphalen had a portable vid-link and she was very guarded about who got her number. As far as Lucas knew, it hadn't rung since before the wedding. Lucas chuckled. "Email, how else?"

"How much is he writing?"

"Oh, not a lot. He misses swimming with Darwin and he's been taking reading lessons at the local library. He has this eighty-year-old teacher who's been helping him and he wants to get her some kind of thank-you gift before he leaves. Asked me what I thought."

"What did you tell him?" Dr. Westphalen asked.

"I told him I had no idea," Lucas said.

She scoffed. "Some friend _you_ are."

"What? What do I know about eighty-year-old ladies?"

Dr. Westphalen whipped out her own portable computer. "Mr. Piccolo is 'gilled stud', right?"

He exchanged a look with the captain. The older man said nothing but gave him a look that clearly said to go along. They both knew she was going to write to Tony somehow, even if she had to interrogate every other _seaQuest_ crewmember she knew to track down his email address. "Right, that's him."

"Kristin, he's just a petty officer," the captain said softly. "He can't afford much."

She smiled sweetly and her eyes sparked with fire. "When will you men ever get it? You don't have to spend money to show a girl appreciation. All it takes is a little thought."

"Well, Piccolo might be a little deficient in _that_ department," the captain said. He had enough humor in his voice that Lucas knew he didn't think Tony was completely stupid, but they both knew he tended to act impulsively sometimes.

"He cared enough to ask for help. I'm just seeing that he gets it."

The captain raised his hands to surrender the conversation. Just because he was her husband, he didn't try to tell her what she could and couldn't do. Lucas was glad someone else was helping Tony with his crazy request. He should have thought to ask Dr. Westphalen himself. Speaking of asking. He decided this was as good a time as any to bring up something that had been bugging him.

"Uh, Captain? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Lucas."

"I don't want to seem ungrateful for our relationship or anything, but I was wondering if when we get back on _seaQuest_, that you could maybe not call me kiddo or Lucas on the bridge."

The captain's brows raised. "Chief Computer Analyst is quite a mouthful."

"How about 'Mr. Wolenczak'?" Lucas barely hid his cringe.

The doctor smiled and looked like she was going to say something corny. She did speak, but not in the sappy tone he'd expected. "Nathan, did you know Lucas ordered himself science department uniforms? A whole set."

He turned to Lucas. "Did you?"

"Yes, sir. I'm part of the science department, aren't I?"

"Absolutely. But you've never worn the uniform before. Why the sudden change?"

"I'm an adult now. I was just thinking that if I want everyone to start treating me like an adult, that I should start acting more like one. No one else shows up to work in civilian clothes. I'm surprised you put up with it this long. I don't want to be the captain's pet who gets away with breaking all the rules. I want to earn respect like everyone else has to."

He smiled. "All right. Mr. Wolenczak it is, when we're on duty. Just remember, I call my officers by their first names sometimes too."

Lucas nodded. "I know. And that's cool. I don't want any special treatment."

"You got it, _kiddo_." And then the captain tackled him, sending them both rolling into the sand.

The doctor just sat and watched, smiling widely and shaking her head. Lucas was too busy rolling in the sand and trying not to let the older man come out on top, but he was pretty sure her heard a feminine voice mutter, "Boys."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Tim was tired. It had been a long drive from San Diego to Oklahoma City. Mary had driven at least half the way, but she slept in the passenger seat beside him now. At least he thought she was asleep. He thought back over the last couple of months. Everything had happened so fast.

After their first few days in the hotel, she had brought him home and cooked for him. The food was so delicious, he could hardly stop eating. But her plate just held a few sparse spoonfuls of food, like she was afraid he'd look down on her for pigging out on the most awesome zucchini lasagna in history.

"Please don't tell me you're trying to diet," Tim said around another big mouthful. He told her she didn't have to block him when they were together. She had to know that he liked her figure just like it was.

She laughed. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt me, but no, that isn't it. I didn't cook any meat tonight because I know the sight and smell of it grosses you out. I didn't want anything to detract from your enjoyment of the food. I'm not so keen on the veggies, so I'll eat later."

"You're not eating because you didn't want me to _smell_ your food?"

She nodded, beaming a smile at him so pure that it almost took his breath away.

"You don't have to go without because of me. There's only like four other people on _seaQuest_ who are vegetarians. I see and smell meat all the time. Someone even roasted a _whole goat_ and brought it to the mess hall when we were trapped in time." He spread his hands wide to indicate the size of the carcass. "I'm sure I could handle you eating a pork chop."

She sighed wistfully and gazed into his face. "I know. I just wanted this one night to be as perfect for you as our first meeting was for me. You gave up your eyesight. I gave up meat. It's no huge sacrifice. I'll eat meat in front of you again, just not tonight."

"You know that feeling I have for you?" Tim said nervously. His heart started to pound.

"Mmm hmm."

He swallowed his food with an audible gulp he hadn't intended. "I know what it is now."

"Really?"

"Yes. Do you want to touch me so you can feel it?"

"It would mean more if you told me out loud."

He drew a deep breath. "I love you, Mary."

"I love you too, Tim."

He leaned over the table and kissed her, but he lost his balance and almost fell into the green bean casserole. "I want to be with you as much as I possibly can until I have to go back to _seaQuest_. I'll get an apartment in the city."

"Why don't you just stay in my granny flat?"

"Your _what_?"

"My father was still alive when I first moved here. I took this place because it was isolated and it had a separate little house for my dad. It's about 300 yards that way." She pointed northeast. "We may have to dust some cobwebs and the kitchen is really small. Tell you what… we can have lunch and dinner together here and you can make your own breakfast. How's that?"

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"No. I'm telling you that you can stay, temporarily, in a little shack that's on my property. You can't move in under the same roof unless we're married. I don't have enough self-control and you're too tempting."

_Whoa! Married? _He hadn't meant to Transmit, but the thought was too big to hold back.

"Sorry," Mary said gently. "But _you_ opened your mind. Don't ask me to pretend I don't know you're thinking about it. You never answered my question about children, so I know you're uncomfortable talking about it. We'll wait until you're comfortable."

"It's not that I'm uncomfortable with _you_," he said, shifting in his chair uneasily. "It's the Navy and being away."

She nodded. "Tim, before you met me, you knew _seaQuest_ was where you belonged. Captain Bridger needs you and appreciates you. Plus, you have _friends_ there. And you know good and well they aren't 'borrow-a-cup-of-flour' friends. These are people who would step in front of a bullet for you. Don't discount that. And don't give it up for me. I am so proud of who you are and what you do. The only person worth giving it up for is _you_. If you can find another career that is just as fulfilling and allows you to be with me, I'm certainly not going to turn you away."

She took his hand and squeezed. "Listen, I've lived alone a long time. I need to talk to you often—every day or every other day at least, but we don't have to be together for that to happen. That was why I averted us meeting for so long. That was the one thing I couldn't stand to lose. I'm going to enjoy your leave and I'll be sorry to see you go, but don't ever think you need to give up _seaQuest_ for me."

He wanted to pop the question right then, but he'd just declared his love and it felt like that would be rushing and reckless. Besides, he wanted to make it special and she'd done all the work that night, cooking such a great meal.

He moved into the granny flat the next day. It needed attention, but he didn't mind fixing it up. It turned out to be a good thing for more than just Mary and him. The captain and Lucas needed a place to stay in New Cape Quest and then Lucas and Miguel used his base housing again right before Lucas's birthday. Tim had gone back to Florida for the wedding, reluctantly, but he'd been glad he did. Seeing all his friends again had reinforced what Mary had said about friendship and seeing the captain and doctor together had strengthened his resolve to propose. Sure, he missed Mary for those days they were apart, but he was beginning to believe what she said, that their love really could sustain separation.

After the wedding, they had to get ready for the drive to his mother's house. Flying would have been so much quicker and easier, but Mary couldn't do it without buying out an entire plane. She didn't have quite _that_ many frequent flyer miles. He checked out her old '11 Chevy Volt and tuned it up and she gushed about how handy he was.

He'd prepared his mother ahead of time about Mary's empathic abilities and her appearance. She was so thrilled her 'little Timmy' was bringing home a girl that she didn't care.

After they met, he took Mom aside and mentioned the possibility of her converting to Catholicism. "But you have to accept her for who she is, Mom. I love her and I don't want her to think she has to change for me _or_ for you. If she joins the church, it has to be because _she_ wants to."

"How serious are you about her?"

"I'm going to ask her to marry me."

He'd thought she was going to burst into tears. She hugged him and then whispered, "Wait right there." In three minutes, she returned with the engagement ring his father had given her and offered it with a trembling hand. "Do you think she'll like it?"

The diamond wasn't very big and the design wasn't fancy. But he knew Mary would be honored by the gesture more than anything. Tim kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom. I know she will."

Mary bought him a new pair of glasses for Christmas after calling Wendy to get his prescription. "I used one of those computer analysis websites," she said. "I uploaded a picture and then it takes your face shape and tells you exactly which frames most flatter you."

They did look pretty great and it was also obvious she'd paid a premium for the lenses because they were some kind of composite that was much thinner and didn't look like Coke bottles. Definitely _not_ standard navy-issue. And he'd been using his old, scratched spare pair since the _Fifi_. "How did you know I needed another pair?"

She punched him in the arm playfully. "I don't think you bothered to hide that with your military secrets."

_Duh_. Was he ever going to get used to having a girlfriend that could read his mind? And to think that at one time he'd shunned empaths because he thought they'd be _less_ accepting than other girls.

Mary had insisted that he not buy her a Christmas present after fixing up the granny flat out of his pocket. He probably would have defied her and bought one anyway if he didn't have Mom's engagement ring to tip the scales. He arranged with an old navy buddy who was stationed in San Diego to borrow a sloop so he could take her out sailing. She'd been so fascinated by his description of the _skyQuest _that he thought she'd enjoy it. She shunned restaurants and even beaches because of the people and he refused to propose in some mundane back yard or in that old Volt. Tim didn't know a lot about romance, except what _not_ to do. But it seemed to him that if the captain could get married on a sailboat, he could propose on one.

She smiled when he knelt on the deck and pulled the ring from his pocket. "Will you marry me?" His voice cracked because he was so nervous, but she ignored it.

"Of course I will!" she squealed. "When did you have time to shop for a ring?"

"This was my mother's. She wants you to have it."

That's when the tears started. He slipped the ring on her finger and then she threw her arms around his neck, blubbering something that included the word 'happy'. She shifted the balance of the boat and they both ended up overboard. The water in Mission Bay was cold and he panicked a second because they hadn't worn life vests. Luckily, she knew how to swim and she laughed heartily at the whole thing.

He got in the boat himself first and then helped her up. "Well, so much for romance," he sighed.

"Are you kidding? How much more memorable can you get? What a story we've got. You can go back to _seaQuest_ and tell your friends you 'really went overboard' when you proposed."

He cringed at her pun but then he had an idea. "We really rocked the boat, didn't we?"

She laughed harder. "Oh, give me a wet kiss."

He kissed her and then they shivered together until they got to shore and wrapped up in a wool blanket. "How soon do you want to get married?" he whispered as they snuggled close under the blanket. "Before I go on tour?"

"Let's give it a little time. You're taking it on faith that we'll be okay when we're apart. I want you to be confident. This can be our trial period. Plus, you'll want some of your friends to be involved in a wedding, right? They haven't met me yet. I know you're worried about what they'll think. Can I make a suggestion?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Get a copy of Jimmy Soul's 1963 hit song. Play it a lot."

His brow wrinkled as he tried to remember who that was or what song she could be referring to.

She started to sing it for him: "If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife. So from my personal point of view, get an ugly girl to marry you."

He smiled even as he said, "But you're not ugly."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Sweety. But that isn't the point. If you deflect the matter with humor, then they won't feel so uncomfortable. I'm actually more worried about meeting them without invading their minds."

"We'll do it one at a time. It can't be any worse than our engagement capsizing."

"Would you quit beating yourself up for that? If anyone was at fault, it was me. So we got a little wet and we're freezing our patooties off. We'll live. I may even put this in a book."

"You're really not disappointed?"

"Not one bit. Thank you for a memorable proposal."

And now she lay in the passenger seat, sleeping like an angel. He'd have to say goodbye tomorrow and go back to Fort Gore to report for duty. And as hard as he knew it was going to be, he knew deep down that she was right. He belonged on _seaQuest_ and running away from that would change who she fell in love with.

And then it hit him, right there in the car. He'd told Captain Bridger that he wanted to reinvent himself in a way he'd be comfortable with. He'd thought he had to resign his commission and change careers for that to happen, but that only made things worse. And now, almost without trying, he _had_ reinvented himself. _SeaQuest_ was home, but it wasn't his only home. He had a home in Oklahoma and a fiancée and he never had to waste time sitting in another bar with another un-interesting airhead ever again. He wasn't going to mope—no, not at all. Instead, he felt ready to bring on the whole ocean. _Watch out, world, here we come_.

* * *

_**A/N: Next chapter: SeaQuest! YAY!**_


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Captain Nathan Bridger put on his new coverall uniform. It was slightly darker navy than the one from second tour, but not quite black like those for the first tour had been. He was really glad, however, that they'd gone back to the cleaner style without the weird strap-buckle-things on the shoulders. He never did figure out what those were supposed to be for. These looked really sharp and although he'd grown accustomed to loose chambray and bare feet in the last few weeks, he felt quite at ease in a uniform, as long as it was the everyday kind. Dress uniforms made him uncomfortable, not because of the fit or the style, but because wearing one all too often meant an unpleasant meeting with one or more big shots he'd rather steer clear of. When he put on his dress whites for the wedding, they felt just as comfortable as his coveralls did now.

Kristin was already dressed and sitting at the valet table, pinning her hair up. The science department uniforms were cut exactly the same as military, but of a forest green cloth rather than navy blue. He liked these even better than the old teal-colored ones. The darker green brought out the fire in Kristin's red hair. The old ones had reminded him too much of surgical scrubs. While appropriate for medical staff, it had felt a little weird on bathymetric geologists and penguin researchers. The dark green and dark navy were so close in tone, that if ever a photograph were taken in black and white, no one would be able to tell the difference between science and military except for the rank insignia or nameplates. Nathan's scientific side appreciated the symbolism in that.

He'd already seen Lucas in his. He and Kristin had worn civvies for the first few days back, before crew arrived, but Lucas had either been eager to try his on, or hadn't expected to be alone in the wearing. He didn't let it show if he was embarrassed. He stood tall, trying to pretend he didn't care what Nathan thought while his eyes pleaded for approval. Damn, but the kid looked sharp. He'd even gotten a haircut! It wasn't a crewcut, but it was shorter than he'd ever seen on Lucas, something like Krieg's had been on the first tour.

"How does it feel, Mr. Wolenczak?"

Lucas relaxed enough to grin. "A little restrictive in the waist, but I'll get used to it, sir."

"Well, _I_ think you look smashing," Kristin said. And she didn't use that motherly tone of hers either. Any closer to flirting, and with anyone even a smidgen older, and he'd be having a chat with his lovely bride. He really didn't want to be busting jaws over honor, but he would if he had to. It would be better for all concerned if she didn't encourage the hapless young men who couldn't help but be attracted to her. In fairness, her nameplate said K. Westphalen and lots of people wore astrology symbol rings on their left hands even if they weren't 'taken'. Scuttlebutt would make sure everyone on the boat knew within a day or two. Surely no one would be so stupid as to make a pass at the captain's wife once they knew.

"You planning to eat?" he asked her.

She reached over to the table beside her and held up a can of protein breakfast drink. "This is it for now. Levin already beeped me; he's waiting in Medbay. We have a lot to cover."

He leaned over for a quick peck. "Okay. See you later."

"You look smashing too, you know," she said in a tone that was definitely more flirtatious than the one she'd used with Lucas.

He stood behind her chair and talked to her mirror image. "Oh really? Well, you don't look so bad yourself, Mrs. Bridger." He knew she hadn't changed her legal name and he really didn't mind. Outside of their quarters, they both planned to act strictly professional and keeping her name would support that fiery independence she was so famous for.

She beamed a smile. "Why thank you, Mr. Bridger." She swatted his butt playfully. "Lunch?"

"Hopefully. It depends how many bugs we've got to work out from our upgrades. I'm heading to the ward room to interview the new crew, but there hasn't been a lot of turnover, so that shouldn't take long. Then I should be on the bridge. Beep my PAL when you're ready." He slipped out the hatch.

The ward room sported new chairs and a fresh coat of paint, but they'd left everything else the same. He pressed the button on the computer monitor and called up the new officer list, both NCOs and commissioned. Most of his bridge crew were returning, but not all. And they even had a new-but-old position to fill—the helm chief. When they'd designed the bridge on the new _seaQuest_, they also made the somewhat arbitrary decision that whoever sat in Tactical could relay helm orders. Ford could handle helm and weapons and probably the whole damn ship all by himself if necessary, but it had been a challenge for Brody and some of the others. Nathan had complained about it, offering to remodel the bridge himself if they didn't think they had room for one person to stand and do the job. There was plenty of room, but taking a sledgehammer to something might have helped his frustration. Why did nimrods in high places go making idiotic decisions like this, without consulting people in the field whose lives depended on efficiency?

They hadn't redesigned the bridge again, but they did accept Nathan's complaints as valid and conceded that the helm officer was necessary. He'd been in Washington when they asked if he had any requests to fill the position. He didn't hesitate. Chief William Shan had stood with Ford and stayed with the first _seaQuest_ while he, Nathan, was getting her set to dive into that lava bed. The Navy had needed Shan elsewhere before the second boat was ready and when his position had been so arbitrarily dissolved, Nathan didn't think he'd ever get the bright young Asian back. He didn't get too heavy-handed with the request in case Shan was happy where he was, but he did want to extend the opportunity to return. When the list came up on the screen, the captain smiled broadly.

A knock sounded on the door. "Come," he called.

The door opened and William Shan entered and saluted. "Ensign William Shan, reporting for duty, sir."

Nathan returned the salute. "Welcome home, Ensign."

"Thank you for requesting me, sir. _SeaQuest_ is a very special boat."

"Yes, she is and we've missed you. But I'm glad to see you didn't waste your time away from us. I can't believe they let me have you back now that you're an ensign."

Shan cracked a ghost of a smile. "I don't think there's much they wouldn't give you after that battle with the alien mothership, sir."

Nathan chortled. "Except another sub."

"Scuttlebutt has it that you're building your own anyway." Shan was careful with his tone. It had been quite some time and everyone had changed a lot. It would take him a while to feel comfortable again.

"Lucas?"

Shan nodded.

Nathan smiled. "It's true. Hitchcock and I are building it privately, without government funds _or interference_. Oh, she may be showing up here again. She's in the reserves as a lieutenant commander. And while I'm at it, we're getting formal on Lucas and calling him by his surname on the bridge."

"I can say Wool-en-zak."

Nathan laughed. "Sure you can."

"I also hear congratulations are in order?"

He nodded. "Yes, Dr. Westphalen and I tied the knot. But she kept her name. She might deck you if you call her Bridger." Actually, he knew for fact that Will held a special place in Kristin's heart. He'd been crucial to saving Cynthia's life and keeping Kristin and Jonathan safe when they were trapped in the Amazonian _favela_.

"So noted, sir." His smile betrayed his confidence that Nathan had been joking.

"Well, you already know almost everyone. Dr. Wendy Smith will be assisting in Medbay, but she's our Chief Psychologist. Lieutenant James Brody is my Tactical Officer. I'm sure he'll be very interested in your martial arts skills for launch missions. We have an Alpha Model K for a janitor: Dagwood. He's big and strong, but not too bright. He's saved all our hides, so cut him as much slack as you can."

"Yes, sir."

"And then there's Petty Officer Piccolo." Nathan sighed. He really didn't know what to say. "Uh, just watch out for his betting pools. He bunks with Lucas and he's a bit of a card shark too. Oh, and he's got gills."

Shan's eyes bugged out. "Come again?"

"Gills. Like a fish. Swims without scuba gear." He almost mentioned Piccolo's delinquent record, but thought better of it. He'd not only started taking the Navy seriously, but he'd spent his leave learning to read. There was no reason Shan needed to know about the past. "He's a little rough around the edges, but I think he has potential."

"A special project?"

"You could say that."

"Mold but don't crush him."

"Exactly. Now, for your quarters, we could put you in with Ensign Benchley, but Chief Ortiz needs a roommate if you don't mind bunking with an NCO." Anyone who'd served with him already knew Nathan didn't believe in standard naval apartheid, but he tried to keep it low-key. Nothing would be said if Shan chose someone he had probably never met in order to bunk with a commissioned officer. There was a slight difference in the size of the rooms, but it was more of a status issue than anything else.

"Miguel and I have a history. Sure, I'm fine with him."

"Great. B-Deck 112. Report to the bridge at 0900. With any luck, we'll be shoving off by noon. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." Shan took off towards B-Deck.

Nathan entered the room assignment into the computer, mentally patting himself on the back for thinking of it. Commander Ford usually handled housing matters, but the captain's command code would override him and he was almost certain Jonathan wouldn't take any offense. Neither of them were supposed to know about Miguel's lousy luck with roommates. The sensor chief had never lodged an official complaint, but rumor had it that more than one person had taken advantage of his easygoing nature. Miguel deserved Shan a whole lot more than the uppity Benchley. Nathan wouldn't even have put Krieg with Benchley, except maybe as a punishment. Temporarily. Lieutenants and above got private quarters.

He interviewed four more new NCOs, two of them replacements for Watts and Young, who'd survived If Island but left the Navy right after the tour ended. He was a little concerned he might have to replace Henderson, too. She wouldn't be late for another hour, but no one had seen her or heard from her since the day they arrived in New Cape Quest. Her name was still on the crew list though, so he tried not to jump to any conclusions. Wyoming was far away and she had more family to say goodbye to than most.

He was looking over the thick stack of papers comprising the reports of everything done to his boat while she was dry docked when the intercom delivered O'Neill's familiar voice. "Bridge to Captain."

He hit the button. "Bridger here."

"I've got a call for you from Admiral Noyce, Captain."

"I'll take it in the ward room."

"Aye, sir."

The vid-link screen irised on. "I'm moving your departure up to immediate, Nathan. You remember that prehistoric crocodile you put out of commission last year? Someone just killed a juvenile with the same DNA. You need to get down to the south Atlantic and investigate."

He wasn't sure if 'same DNA' just meant same species or if it was the same darned croc. "Africa?" he asked hopefully.

Bill shook his head. "Amazonian Confederation."

Nathan bit back his reaction to the destination. "Will they let us set foot on their territory to confer with their scientists?"

"Probably not, but there's a friendly colony off the coast of Uruguay that can act as mediator. New Montevideo. They're UEO."

"We're still missing crew."

"Anyone critical?"

Nathan resisted the urge to look at the check-in list again, but the only name he remembered was Henderson. All the officers were aboard as well as most of the enlisted and most of science. While Henderson was valuable as a helmsperson and for her mechanical skills, he couldn't in all honesty call her critical. "No."

"We'll send a jet copter with anyone who misses the boat to rendezvous with you later. You need to get down there and make sure we don't have another monster loose. The fishing industry can't take much more stress. This could be that trigger to the economic summit you were worried about."

The Economic Summit of 2026 was the beginning of the end of the UEO according to Major Allen. Did fishing instability lead to colonial deregulation? Could he, Nathan, have contributed to an economic spiral by not killing that crocodile when he had the chance? He shuddered to think of all the repercussions. "We'll leave as soon as possible, Admiral."

Noyce nodded and his picture irised out, leaving the UEO trident on the screen.

Nathan hit the intercom. "Doctors Smith, Westphalen, and Levin to the ward room. Commander Ford, get us underway immediately—best speed to New Montevideo Colony in the south Atlantic."


	34. Chapter 34

_**A/N: To those of you asking about Henderson: I am stuck. I've opened a discussion on the boards at: forum(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/topic/6805/37693880/1/ **__**Please join in and tell me what you think about Lonnie. **_

_**Also, I am aware that my prehistoric croc information is way off, but it's not my fault. The show embellished Deinosuchus facts considerably (it grows to 33-40 feet, not 200; and even at the smaller size, its bite force of 18,000 newtons would have crushed the Stinger no matter how thick the titanium, life expectancy was 50 years, not 120, and who knows how many other things they fudged). I try to do my homework. But I can't help it if the canon people didn't. It's fiction, folks. Roll with it.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 34**

Admiral Noyce sent a data file right after they ended their vid-link call. Someone routed it to the ward room and left a flashing beacon on the control panel to announce its arrival. Nathan would have bet money on O'Neill. He'd heard the call of the science department heads to meet there, so he probably just didn't want to interrupt, but he also had a lot going on at his own station if nothing mechanical stopped them from leaving shore. Anyone else probably wouldn't even have noticed the incoming download until after they had broken harbor and were out in open sea.

Nathan opened the file to find pictures along with the DNA profile of the crocodile that had just been killed. He stared at the photographs long and hard, sighing to himself. There was definitely something off about the proportions in an animal that size if it was supposed to be any other species but Deinosuchus. Like most vertebrates, adult crocodiles were not just blown-up versions of the hatchlings. This one looked to be at least thirty feet long, which was big for any contemporary crocodile. In addition, saltwater crocs were supposed to be confined to Indo-Pacific waters. No, it was quite fishy indeed.

Vibrations told him _seaQuest_ was moving. If no one called to report a problem, he assumed his crew would do whatever was necessary to carry out his orders. Levin, Smith, and Westphalen all arrived promptly. He almost did a double-take when he saw Wendy. She was wearing forest green coveralls and a lab coat, just like Kristin. It was all he could do to keep his jaw from dropping in astonishment. _First Lucas and now Wendy? _"Have a seat," he said, indicating the table with a sweep of his arm. None of them missed the picture of the dead croc on the screen, but Westphalen and Levin didn't take more than a glance.

Wendy, however, stopped in her tracks. "It can't be," she whispered.

"I'm afraid it is, Doctor," Nathan said. "Admiral Noyce is sending us to investigate another appearance of the Deinosuchus."

"Deinosuchus is extinct!" Kristin exclaimed. "That's got to be something else."

"Dr. Smith, if you'd care to explain," Nathan prompted her as he joined the others at the table.

"Last year, global warming, aqua-farming, and underwater mining activity in the South Atlantic thawed out a section of Antarctic ice which contained a three and a half year old female Deinosuchus. She was 182 feet long. Her first victims were members of Commander Ford's family business, Ford-Freeport Aquaculture. She attacked the commander in the _Stinger_ and he barely got away. We captured her and buried her under tons of glacial ice." Wendy extended her hand to the screen. "This is way too small to be her."

Nathan cleared his throat. "There were eggs, remember?"

"Yes, but they were infertile. Her blood group was supposed to be sterile."

Joshua Levin had been silent up to now, but he muttered, "Michael Crichton was right."

"Excuse me?" Wendy asked.

Levin found his lecture voice. "Michael Crichton, the novelist who wrote Jurassic Park. In his fiction, some genetic engineers cook up dinosaurs from DNA preserved in amber, for the purpose of displaying them at a zoological theme park, hence the book's title. The test-tube dinos were engineered to be sterile, but, as the skeptic character points out, you can't hold back life. 'Life finds a way.'" He turned to Wendy. "Any research you had at your disposal could not possibly predict how these creatures would adapt and survive in our present time."

Wendy sighed. "But after the GELF baby, I should have known better. Life _does_ find a way. Captain, this is my fault. I told Ford-Freeport to bury those eggs so they would rot and become fertilizer, but instead, I helped incubate them and now they've hatched. What are we looking at?"

Nathan flipped through the photographs to get to the DNA profile and then nodded at the screen. "First, we need to determine if this juvenile is indeed the offspring the animal we captured last year. We should have the mother's DNA profile in our databanks from her skin sample. It's possible junior came out of a different ice floe—another isolated thaw. It's also possible a different mother thawed out and laid the egg that hatched this one, in which case we have the possibility of numerous juveniles _and_ an adult." He looked at Wendy and softened his voice a little. "Even if this came from the mother we already put back, we don't know how many places she might have laid eggs. If we had destroyed the ones we knew about, some could still have been hidden. Don't be too hard on yourself."

She gave him a weak smile and slight nod, but she probably wasn't mollified. He didn't say anything else. Scientists were wrong all the time. He had made mistakes before and probably would again. Though painful, mistakes kept people humble. She'd been wrong about the female being sterile, but no one had died because of that mistake, not yet anyway. "Does anyone know how fast they mature?"

Even if Wendy had an idea, she wouldn't share it in her present state. Joshua and Kristin both shook their heads. They weren't paleontologists. Nathan knew what he had to do: get Lucas in here. He'd hesitated before, for a couple of reasons. Firstly because he'd been needed on the bridge. If any anomalies were going to manifest after all the upgrades, it would be when they first started moving and no one else would be as capable of handling them as Lucas. They'd be delayed if they hit a battleship in the harbor because of a computer glitch.

And secondly, he'd really hoped to keep Lucas and arm's length on this one. The teen had been very adamant against killing the big one last year. And although Nathan sympathized with the scientific side of preserving a biological miracle, the practical side of him agreed with Darwin and Ford. The beast simply had too big of an appetite. She would destroy ecosystems already in a precarious balance. Dolphins and whales had been scared of this super-predator. But if she wiped out whole populations of regular fish, the consequences could be staggering. Too many people depended on fish for food and livelihood. Starving people would kill more than just crocodiles and the damaged ecosystem might never recover.

If _seaQuest_ found any more of these prehistoric monsters, they couldn't keep putting them back on ice. The ice could melt again and they'd be right back where they started, and next time they might be busy on the other side of the planet. Deinosuchus was extinct for a reason. The present Earth's oceans couldn't support the species and he didn't have a handy Mobius Hole generator to send them back to Cretaceous. They would have to be destroyed—as humanely as possible, with great respect and sorrow, but sometimes you just had to do things you didn't like.

And while Nathan knew it was right, he worried about how Lucas would react. The kid was such an idealist. He still thought science held the answers for every conceivable problem. Was this one of those "petty disagreements" his old, alternate reality self had warned him about? If Lucas couldn't accept his solution, would it start the breach that tore them apart? He sighed. Distrusting Lucas's ability to contribute to the knowledge pool without bias wouldn't help anything. Nathan hit the intercom button.

"Commander Ford, status?"

"_SeaQuest_ is on course for New Montevideo, present speed 65 knots and climbing."

"No problems?"

"We had a hiccup or two, but nothing we couldn't handle." Of course, there was no telling whether his cool demeanor was a reflection of his training or the true inconsequentiality of these 'hiccups'. But with Ford, he didn't have to concern himself either way. He would ask for help when he needed it and he obviously didn't right now.

"Very good. If you can spare Mr. Wolenczak, we could use him in the ward room."

"I'll send him right down."

Wendy was typing into the computer, her face knit in concentration. She looked up to the large screen on the wall where a split screen displayed two DNA profiles. "The full-grown female is on the left. The recent specimen is on the right," she explained. She refrained from speaking after that, letting Levin and Westphalen study the data and draw their own conclusions.

Kristin hopped up to point at the display. "Look at these alleles." She touched one side and then the other. "And these." Back and forth she went, pointing out the similarities.

"Yes, this is definitely an offspring of the female you caught last year," Levin said to the group.

"I agree," Kristin said. "Of course, it's hard to be certain when we don't know how much variance there was in the gene pool at large."

"Dr. Smith?" Nathan prodded. He had to re-engage her before self-doubt took over.

Wendy sighed. "They're right. She was fertile after all and this was one of her offspring."

A knock sounded at the door. "Come on in," Nathan called.

Lucas stepped in. Kristin beckoned him to sit next to her. He headed that way, but his eyes were glued to the DNA profiles on the main screen. His voice was hushed when he made the observation, "Someone found another Deinosuchus."

"Yes," Nathan said. "A juvenile." He punched up the photograph of the dead croc.

"And there's probably more," Wendy said. "I was wrong about the other one being infertile."

"Has anyone told Commander Ford?" Lucas asked.

Nathan tilted his head. "No, not yet." Lucas indicated he'd heard with a nod. He also looked like he had something else to say, but he kept quiet. "Why?" Nathan prodded.

"The commander's brother fell in one of the nests. Shouldn't we warn them?"

Nathan was extremely relieved, maybe even downright proud that Lucas had thought of the endangered humans before worrying about what would happen to the hatchling Deinosuchi. He stood. "You're absolutely right. I'm going to go talk to him right now. I need you to stay with Dr. Levin and dig up all you can about the species: diet, growth patterns, territorial range, and anything else you can find. Fill in all the blanks with modern saltwater crocodile habits." He addressed everyone at the table. "Meet me back here in two hours."

The scientists nodded and started to stand. Kristin winked an unspoken raincheck for lunch. There were no words necessary between them. This was the nature of their jobs and they both accepted it. He laid his hand very briefly on Lucas's shoulder, just a half-second contact, to show him he appreciated his being there. He was no longer stuck on _seaQuest_ to be babysat. He was an adult who had _chosen_ to sign on to this tour. Nathan had come to rely on the cocky kid genius, but he didn't want to take him for granted now that he was maturing into a very capable young man. Sparing no more than two seconds on sentimentality, he hurried toward the bridge.

Green and navy uniforms alike cleared out of his way as he traversed the familiar path. He knew someone would announce his arrival when he got there and it only half-annoyed him. He shouldn't let protocol get lax on the first day of a tour. Still, sometimes he wished he could just wave his hand like a magic wand to preclude wasting time with ostentatious displays of respect.

"Captain on the bridge!"

He waited half a beat while everyone snapped to attention. _Very nice_. "As you were," he said calmly as he continued his trek.

Ford rose from the command seat. "On course at 74 knots, sir."

He nodded reception of the status update, then he laid his hand on his XO's shoulder, leaned in and spoke softly. "Jonathan, you need to call your brother. Those Deinosuchus eggs we left behind last year were viable. They've already killed a hatchling in the Amazonian Confederation."

The commander's eyes widened, but he kept his voice soft. "But Ben is on the other side of the Atlantic."

"Don't you remember how big those things were? Evidently, they get around pretty well."

Ford shuddered. Of course he remembered how big the mama was. He had almost been her lunch. "Yeah, I'll call him right away. But what should I tell him? We can't evacuate the entire coast of Africa and South America as well as all the islands."

"No, you're right, we can't. But assuming the eggs all hatched at about the same time, they're still immature. If we can find them while they're young and small, we may save the native populations."

"We're going to kill them this time?" His voice was neutral. Nathan suspected he hadn't been too keen on freezing the other one, but he hadn't argued once the suggestion was made.

"I don't see that we have any choice. One of those wreaked havoc in a limited area over a very short period. Can you imagine what would happen if we let them mature and mate? We don't have enough liquid nitrogen to put them in stasis or enough time to transport every one we catch down to Antarctica. Besides, there's no guarantee against another thaw. I don't want to spend the rest of my career tracking down crocodiles, do you?"

"No, sir. How is Lucas taking it?"

Nathan shrugged. "He thought of warning your brother before I did. He's not going to like this, but I think he'll agree it's the right thing to do." Nathan didn't say what he'd do if Lucas disagreed and Ford didn't ask.

The commander raised his voice to a normal volume. "Turning the bridge over to you, sir."

"Acknowledged. Bridge is mine." Nathan slipped into the command seat, savoring how good it felt to be back. He looked around with satisfaction. New panels had been installed, but the new uniforms on his familiar crew actually warmed his heart more than the shiny metal and brightly colored lights. Ortiz had finally got a haircut, thank goodness. It was getting close to the point where he was going to say something, and he really hated doing that. Brody had shorter hair too, but his hadn't been so bad before. O'Neill had new glasses—stylish frames with thinner lenses that really did a lot for his appearance.

Piccolo also wore glasses. Lucas had informed him that they were special lenses that helped dyslexics. Worried that his roommate would be ribbed for 'looking at the world through rose-colored glasses', Lucas had been seen whispering warnings to everyone he met that this was one area of teasing which was off-limits. Nathan thought it rather funny that Lucas felt any need to protect the petty officer at all. Tony was probably the better fighter of the two. There probably weren't more than a handful of enlisted guys who would use eyewear as an excuse to ridicule in the first place.

Nathan stood and walked toward the center of the bridge. "Attention ladies and gentlemen, we're going to be passing Amazonian Confederation waters, so everyone be on your toes. There's been another sighting of a Deinosuchus, an offspring of the female we caught last year. Mr. Ortiz, keep an eye on the WSKRS for any unusual activity which could indicate another one. We'll use a Scatter-Com when we get close to where it was found, but saltwater crocodiles have been known to swim great distances, like from Australia to the Sea of Japan, and those are minnows compared to the Deinosuchus."

Shan looked a little dubious about the whole thing. He probably didn't even know what a Deinosuchus was. But his job didn't require understanding what they were up against, so he did what any good officer did and nodded to the orders. The whole room nodded.

"Captain, do you want the communication buoy to stay up?" O'Neill asked. "I'm still reading that odd carrier wave we picked up last fall."

Nathan shook his head. "We're supposed to be on a scientific and humanitarian mission here. Let them track us."

"Aye, sir."

"But continue to warn me. I'd forgotten all about it."

"Yes sir," O'Neill said brightly. Was it Nathan's imagination, or did Tim seem… _chipper?_ Maybe he was just glad to get back under the water. Nathan couldn't believe how much he'd missed it even though he'd been busy for most of his leave, and enjoying a wonderful honeymoon through the rest. And notwithstanding the threat of dozens of Deinosuchi, it did feel great to be back.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Lucas understood all the reasons why they had to kill the Deinosuchuses (or was it Deinosuchi?). But understanding, and even begrudgingly agreeing, didn't make it any easier. Even the research became a drudgery. It was one thing to study an animal to help it survive, but quite another to dig up its habits in order to force its return to extinction. Lucas dug up everything he could find and he participated in every science team discussion to the best of his ability, but he felt very numb, like he was walking around in a daze.

They made it to New Montevideo and conferred with a local game warden who'd seen the juvenile after it was killed. The Amazonians had already called open season on the species, which the warden supported, but he was concerned that too many protected river crocodiles would be killed "by accident" in the hunt. Crocodile meat was a delicacy and its skin was very valuable. No one would have to offer a bounty to eliminate the unwanted monsters, but it did mean that anything resembling the pest would probably suffer in the killing frenzy.

Dr. Levin came up with a really good list of criteria the hunters should use, but most of them required getting too close. Crocodiles were not an animal you wanted to approach until _after_ you'd killed it. The only glaring difference that could be determined from a distance was the length. Anything in excess of twenty feet was probably a Deinosuchus. While they had no control over what the sovereign confederations did, Captain Bridger recommended that the UEO restrict its open season to animals at least twenty feet long.

After docking with the colony, the crew who had missed the boat finally caught up. Lucas had been concerned about Lonnie ever since they'd been rescued from If. She'd been moody and detached even in Devonport and she seemed to be drifting further away at a time when everyone else seemed to be getting closer. Sure, everyone went separate ways on leave, but she didn't even respond when Tony egged her on in email.

Lucas was somewhat worried she might not show up at all and end up AWOL. He wasn't even sure she made the alternate transportation that was bringing the stragglers. Fingers crossed, he waited in Launch Bay and smiled when he saw her disembark. "Lonnie!" he called. She shouldered her duffel strap and walked toward him. He opened his arms in welcome, but she didn't come close enough to hug.

"Hey Lucas." She wasn't frowning, but she certainly wasn't smiling much either. "Wow, look at you, in uniform and a haircut and everything." She ruffled his hair a little. He still had enough on top to do that, but it was short on the sides and it never got in his eyes anymore.

He pretended with everyone that he missed the hair he'd lost, but the truth was, short hair was a whole lot easier to deal with when one was trying to be on time in the mornings. He lowered his voice in mock-conspiracy: "I'm trying to convince people I'm an adult now."

"Oh yeah, sorry I missed the birthday. Congratulations. The big one-eight."

"Uh, thanks. Are you okay?"

She sighed. "Just tired. I've been flying like all day and half the night."

She wasn't lying, but she wasn't telling him everything either. "You know you're not in trouble, right? It wasn't your fault _seaQuest_ left early."

A slight nod. "Yeah, I know. But missing the boat isn't exactly the best first impression to make on the new helm chief."

"Oh, that's right. You don't know Will—er Ensign Shan. He's pretty cool. You want me to introduce you?"

She looked down at her clothes and shook her head. "I'm not even in uniform. Is he on the bridge?"

"I think he got off duty at the same time as I did. Why?"

"I have to report in first. I'm sure I'll meet him soon enough." She started toward the mag-lev. "Bye, Lucas."

_"Bye, Lucas"?_ _You just got here!_ "Can I walk you to your quarters or anything?" He tried to keep up with her without being obvious, but she was almost jogging.

She lifted her duffel as if to prove she was strong enough to carry it. "No thanks. Gotta go."

He put on a burst of speed and caught her shoulder. "Wait."

She stopped, but she looked annoyed. "What?"

"Lonnie, I'm your friend. You know you can talk to me, right? Or if not me, then Dr. Smith."

She gave him a condescending roll of her eyes. "I'm just tired, okay?"

A particular word for male bovine excrement came to mind, but he tried not to think about it, since she was a lady. "Fine. But you better talk to someone after you've had a nap. You know where to find me." He turned and left, muttering, "Women." He couldn't even remember why he had a crush on her at one time, probably just hormones and scarcity of competition. While he was no longer interested in her like that, she was still a friend. She had stayed with him when he drew that short straw and she'd talked to him and held his hand when his back hurt so much he wanted to be dead.

Lucas checked his watch. He still had forty minutes until he had to be at another science department meeting. He went back to his quarters. Tony wasn't there, probably in the mess hall or the crew lounge. Lucas sat at his computer and called up his email. One in particular caught his eye. He opened it and read with growing hope. He almost dialed the sender's vid-link right there, but he decided instead to consult Drs. Westphalen and Levin first. He would need their support if this idea was to have any chance with the captain. He printed the email and took off toward the lab.

Not surprisingly, both scientists were still in there, even after a long day of analyzing tissue samples from dead crocodilians. Someone had to keep records on how many of the kills were Deinosuchus and how many were not. It was usually obvious whenever a mistake had been made, but DNA testing would also verify if all the hatchlings had come from the same mother, and _seaQuest_ was best equipped to make that determination. Ben Ford had already reported a kill on the eastern side of the Atlantic, so they would have to Scatter-Com the entire ocean eventually.

Dr. Westphalen looked up from a microscope and smiled. "You're early!"

"I know. I was wondering if you guys could look at this proposal and help me work it out. Maybe we can pitch it to the captain when he comes to the meeting."

She frowned, giving him that 'what mischief are you up to now' look, one eyebrow raised.

Lucas didn't let it intimidate him. "Hey, I had the vid-link number. I didn't need your permission to call him myself."

Levin didn't have any patience for their games. "What are you talking about?"

"A way to keep one Deinosuchus alive."

Levin snatched the paper right out of Lucas's hand. "Let me see that." Lucas didn't pretend to be offended. He wanted them to see the mail. That's why he'd brought it. He waited, looking back and forth between the two senior scientists. With every second Levin kept reading, Dr. Westphalen's look of interested curiosity grew. "Yes!" Levin practically shouted. He started punching the buttons on the vid-link in the lab.

"What?" the lovely CMO asked, but the two men were so far ahead of her, they didn't go back to fill her in.

_Next time, maybe she won't give me that frown and I'll tell her first_, Lucas thought smugly.

"What time is it in Australia?" Lucas asked.

Levin cringed; he hadn't given it any thought. But the line was already ringing, so they were committed. Lucas decided he'd let Levin apologize if they got Dr. Britton out of bed. In fact, he was going to let Levin do all the talking.

Half an hour later, the science staff met with the captain. Lucas did his best to hide his hope. Dr. Levin said it was better if he made the proposal, since he was head of science, and Lucas agreed. He didn't care who made the pitch so long as it worked.

"Well, what's the damage?" Captain Bridger asked as he sat down with them.

"We have four confirmed Deinosuchi dead, all of them with DNA consistent with the mother," Dr. Westphalen reported. "None of the kills have been very close geographically, which means they probably all sought out new territories after hatching."

"Captain, we'd like to petition the UEO to allow one of the specimens to live," Dr. Levin blurted out. Lucas wondered if he was nervous.

The captain didn't exactly frown, but he did look very weary when he stared Levin down. Lucas was suddenly very glad he'd let the older scientist handle it. "Go on," the captain said cautiously.

"Dr. Adam Britton of the New Ausland Confederation has been a recognized expert in crocodiles for decades now."

Lucas couldn't help putting in, "He worked with crocodile communication decades before I started working with the vocorder. He laid a lot of the groundwork for interspecies translation." He cast an apologetic look at Levin. "Sorry for the interruption."

Levin didn't even acknowledge his apology. He picked up from there, excitement playing heavily on his bearded face. "Lucas contacted him to help us, because his Big Gecko Center for Crocodilian Research is the best in the field. I just got off the vid-link with him. If we can catch a Deinosuchus alive, he's offered to come pick it up himself. The Center will keep it as long as they can feed and house it, studying its behaviors in captivity. When the time comes, they will anesthetize it and vivisection so that we can learn as much as possible before it's euthanized. He even has a video production company that will film everything for educational purposes. They plan to have a professional taxidermist preserve the body for a museum. It won't keep the species from extinction, but it will keep one animal alive a little longer and this will further our understanding of Deinosuchus and other crocodiles."

All eyes focused on the captain. Lucas held his breath.

The older man looked at all three of them like they were co-conspirators, which, if truth be told, they probably were. A smile dawned. "Well, _that's_ more like it."

Levin and Westphalen smiled at each other. Dr. Westphalen patted Lucas on the back. He released his held breath with a huge sigh of relief.

The captain didn't miss it. He turned to the teen. "Hey, why are you so surprised? You don't think I enjoy killing these creatures, do you?"

Lucas shook his head. "Uh, no, sir. I just thought…" _What did I think?_ "Uh, I thought you didn't have a choice." It sounded lame leaving his lips.

"Maybe I didn't before. But you've given me an alternative and I intend to use it." He set a hand on Lucas's shoulder and he felt warm all over. "Tell Dr. Britton that if we can capture one, _seaQuest_ will deliver it personally."

"Don't you have to ask the admiral or the Secretary General or something?" Dr. Westphalen asked.

"I'll _tell_ them what I'm going to do and they'd better not try to stop me. This can only help relations with New Ausland. Maybe we can still prevent that Macronesian Alliance nonsense."

Lucas hadn't even thought of the political ramifications of giving a rare specimen to New Ausland. He'd just wanted to save a Deinosuchus. He grinned. "Very cool."

_**

* * *

**_

A/N: Dr. Adam Britton is a real crocodile expert who lives in the Northern Territory of Australia. You can learn all about his work on crocodilian(dot)com. I use his name with the greatest respect, but obviously, fictitiously.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Wendy looked over her schedule for the day, sighing softly. Most of the crew was taking the Deinosuchus mission in stride. They'd spent four weeks traipsing about the Atlantic, Scatter-Comming every square mile of ocean, trying to make sure they found every one of the baby monsters. The problem with that, of course, was that Deinosuchus was a reptile, not an amphibian. They were perfectly capable of crawling onto land and staying there indefinitely, even finding food there. Scatter-Coms only covered the water. Being on land made them easier for the hunters to kill, but also easier to hide if they were in an unpopulated area.

Once Lucas negotiated a viable alternative for one specimen, everyone was a lot more excited about looking for them. Miguel finally found a 25 foot male near the Falklands. They captured it and took it directly to Dr. Britton in northern Australia. That side trip 'wasted' four days, but no one complained. Wendy could feel how elated the crew were that they finally saved one. They housed him in large tank near the moonpool. Tony referred to him as Wally, and Darwin repeated it, so the name ended up sticking. Even Dr. Britton seemed to like the name and planned to keep it.

Everyone was still riding the high of saving Wally when Nathan stopped at Broken Ridge Mining Colony, near the Great Barrier Reef. While most of the crew probably thought it was a personal visit for the captain, Wendy suspected otherwise. She didn't know all of the details, but the leader of the colony, Leonard Sutter, had once sent a distress call, answered by _seaQuest_ on its first tour. Mr. Sutter evidently owed Captain Bridger and Commander Ford for saving his family from a dangerous situation.

Sutter was now very wealthy and had started expanding his business into two new mining colonies. He was gaining power and influence. The rest of the crew could think what they wanted about Nathan and Jonathan joining the man for drinks while Lucas entertained Gibby Sutter, Leonard's 13-year-old son, on _seaQuest_. Wendy knew, without scanning, that this was a very calculated move on Nathan's part to strengthen relations with allies in the area, in hopes of changing the dreadful predictions about a possible Macronesian Alliance. Sutter's operation was independent, but if he ever felt the need to join any group, Nathan wanted to be certain it would be the UEO.

It didn't take a psychic to see how well it had gone. Gibby and Lucas had a grand time playing with Darwin and both Nathan _and_ Jonathan were smiling when they returned from Broken Ridge. No doubt, it had been three hours well spent before they had to rush back to the Atlantic, back to the drudgery of scanning for prehistoric crocodilians.

Wendy hadn't been able to completely purge the guilt over this whole thing. Those eggs had been left alone on her say-so that they were infertile, and she'd been wrong. She knew all the placating lines about being human and no one being able to know anything solid about an extinct species. She knew them because she often used such lines on others. But while her intellect accepted the rationalizations, she was having a hard time taking it to heart and actually forgiving herself as much as everyone else had already forgiven her.

She was keeping busy though. Lonnie was her biggest concern right now. The first two weeks back, Wendy had pestered her to make an appointment for counseling, but Lonnie kept putting it off. Then Wendy made an appointment and gave it to her as a _fait accompli_, but Lonnie left a voicemail cancellation at the last minute. Wendy made another appointment and emailed it to Lonnie with a note saying that if she didn't come on her own, Wendy would go to Commander Ford. Lonnie said she understood, but then she supposedly 'forgot' the appointment time and didn't show up.

She knew it would make Lonnie even more hostile toward counseling, but the seaman had given Wendy no choice. Wendy spoke to Jonathan in private, bringing up the subject before one of his own counseling sessions.

"She needs to talk more than anyone else, and yet she's avoiding me and everyone around her."

"What, you want me to _order_ her to talk to you?"

It was her own fault that Jonathan didn't see counseling as the serious matter he should see it. She'd made sessions very low key and kept everything "off the record" for the most part. She understood how bad it looked to have the words "psychiatric treatment" in one's personal file. But she was only willing to do that up to a point. "If you have to, yes. This is beyond just being concerned about her, Commander. If you can't get her to come see me voluntarily, then I have to call for an official psych evaluation and I don't think she'll pass. Do you want her removed from duty?"

She could see in Jonathan's eyes that he understood the gravity of the situation now. "I'll take care of it, Doctor."

She knew without a doubt that he would do anything he promised. She gave him Lonnie's next appointment card, all filled out.

He accepted it. "Tell me if she tries to get out of this one," he said solemnly.

Wendy nodded even as she hoped she wouldn't have to. Thankfully, Lonnie did show up that time and none too soon. There was no proof, of course, but Wendy was pretty sure that another month and the girl could have become suicidal. If Wendy thought _she_ felt bad for having been mistaken about some Deinosuchus eggs, that was nothing compared to the guilt Lonnie was carrying. Somehow, she'd even got the idea that Wendy thought her a coward for not having stood up to Beauregard, like accepting a forced mate instead of a brutal beating had been a betrayal or something. The two of them had a long talk and a good cry together and Lonnie hadn't missed another appointment since then. It would take a while, to be sure, but Lonnie was finally on the right path.

Besides Lonnie, there were seven men onboard who had survived If Island. All of them were coming to counseling and all of them were making satisfactory progress. Nathan was doing very well except for nightmares and being inordinately worried about Lucas. But Lucas had turned almost every negative into a positive and was actually growing from the experience. Sure, he had some lingering fears and nightmares, just like everyone else, but for the most part, he'd bounced back better than almost anyone.

Tim was also doing especially well, no doubt in part because the man was madly in love. The change in him had been apparent from the first time Wendy saw him. He smiled more and he seemed to walk taller. She was slightly worried that he'd get homesick quickly, but she had yet to notice any symptoms of that. Going on their fifth week at sea and he was still almost as cheerful as he had been the first day.

"You know, you're making me look bad," she said with a teasing inflection. "You're supposed to come to counseling to get cheered up, but I think you cheer me up more than I cheer you."

"Well, you _should_ have someone cheer you up," he said. "You were tortured too."

"I did have some counseling on leave. Thanks for your concern. How are you doing with being away from Mary?"

Her name made him smile, but he tried to hide it. Then he adopted a fake pout. "She scolded me for trying to talk to her while we were in the middle of a Scatter-Com scan. Like we haven't done eighteen of them already. And it wasn't even like there were a whole lot of people around, just Miguel."

"I think her rule that you never talk while you're on duty is a wise one, Tim. If you wouldn't put on a headset and talk out loud, then she's right, you shouldn't be mind-speaking either."

He sighed. "I know."

"Are you fighting about it?"

He laughed. "No, I just hate it when she's right."

"She's trying to look out for you."

"I know. She's the one who suggested that Lucas and I ask Will to give us martial arts lessons too, and now I'm so sore I can hardly walk."

Lucas had mentioned the lessons before, with great excitement. Wendy didn't know much about Ensign Shan yet, but the fact that he was taking time with the two crew members who seemed the most vulnerable had instantly endeared the man to her. She'd always thought the idea was Lucas's though. "That was Mary's idea?"

"Yeah, I made the mistake of mentioning how inferior Will made me feel."

Wendy took half a second to marvel at this statement. She smiled. "You just told me about your feelings."

He looked surprised. "Isn't that why I'm here?"

"Yes, I suppose it is. But can you remember how hard it used to be for you?"

He shuddered. "I think a lot of things were harder before. People keep looking at me like I'm different. Yesterday, the captain left me in charge even though Brody was standing right there!"

It was about time Nathan started giving Tim more responsibility outside of communications and repairs, however, Wendy did worry slightly about how Nathan could do it without stepping on someone else's toes and 'rocking the boat', as he would put it. "And how did Brody react to that?"

Tim shrugged. "If he was mad, I sure couldn't tell. He almost acted…"

Wendy knew he wasn't searching for the word. He was just reluctant to say it. "Relieved?"

He nodded. "Yeah. But maybe that's my imagination."

"Trust your instincts, Tim. You know, Jim has a lot of new responsibilities at home now. And he didn't have time to think about it or prepare himself mentally, like you have."

"Is he okay?"

"Why don't you ask _him_ that?"

"I tried to. I asked him how often he calls home and he said every 5-7 days. I was just so shocked, I didn't know what to say after that. I talk to Mary two or three times _a day, _every day."

She couldn't violate Jim's privacy to tell Tim how precarious Jim's marriage was. Valerie had originally intended to keep her pregnancy secret and raise the child on her own and only the fact she thought Jim was dead for a week did she rethink her position. But even after she told him, they had very little time to establish their own relationship before the baby came rushing on the scene. Jim was trying to do the right thing, but he was overwhelmed. It didn't surprise Wendy one bit that he'd welcome someone else being put in charge on the bridge. Unlike Commander Ford, Brody didn't care much about ever getting his own command. His source of pride was launch missions—rescues, extractions, and assaults. He probably should have been a SEAL. Nathan had been one shrewd captain to lure him to _seaQuest_ instead.

Wendy jerked her thoughts back to Tim. "Yes, but you weren't always a big talker, were you?"

He looked down. "I guess not. I still don't know what to say in _social_ situations." Tim said 'social' like it was some nasty concept.

"Talking to a fellow officer when you're both off duty shouldn't be a _social situation_, Tim. I think Jim could really use your friendship." She paused to take in his expression. He looked a little surprised, maybe, but in a good way, like she believed him and really wanted to help. "Did you tell him you're engaged?" That would give them some common ground. Jim was a man of action and Tim was a thinker, but other than their rank, they had little else in common.

"No, not yet."

"I notice you haven't told very many people. Who else knows besides me?" Wendy wasn't even sure Tim would have told her at all. Mary had been the one to come squealing into her mind, hyped up like she'd drank five too many espressos, and still panting after having fallen overboard into the freezing ocean in December.

"Just Lucas and Miguel."

She chose her next words carefully. "Is there a reason it's a big secret?"

Tim sighed. "Kinda. A lot of people think she's my imaginary friend and I don't have any way to prove otherwise. I mean, how many guys can't produce a single picture of their fiancée?"

Carefully and gently, she said, "But a picture would mean other problems, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess." He paused and looked her in the eyes. "Do _you_ think she's ugly?"

Ordinarily she'd avoid that question. She knew all the psychology tricks to turn focus away and keep from talking about herself. But that was unfair to Tim. Her sessions with him were already less about counseling for PTSD and more about friendship. She wasn't even joking that much when she'd said she was getting more out of it than he was. She met his gaze, cringed, and nodded. "But I don't think any less of her because of it. It's not important."

He sighed. "It's hard when I don't see what everyone else does. I mean, sure, her nose is a little big, but so what?"

Wendy chuckled and shook her head. "You two are so perfect for each other." She'd suspected it from the first time Mary had talked about him and she'd only become more sure as time went by.

He grinned. "I know. That's just it. I feel like I've won the lottery and talking about it is like gloating."

"Fair enough. The captain probably feels the same way about his partnership with Captain Hitchcock, but he does talk about it if it someone else brings up."

"I'm not hiding it," Tim said defensively.

"I didn't mean to imply that you were. What do you want me to say when people ask me what's up with you?"

"People are asking you that?"

She nodded. "You said yourself that they're looking at you different."

"Just tell them I have a great girlfriend and if they want to know more, then ask _me_. I still don't know how I'm going to handle it if people make cracks about her looks though."

"Don't mention her looks at all. Tell them she's camera-shy. That's what I've always said. It's not a lie and anything more is really none of their business. And if they want to attribute your happiness to an imaginary friend, I'd say you've got some imagination."

"Sometimes I don't think she's real myself. Like maybe I dreamed her up when I was on pain meds or something."

She punched him lightly on the arm. "No, silly, you told her you wouldn't talk to her because she didn't have a decoder ring, when you were on pain meds."

He cringed. "I did?"

Laughing, Wendy nodded. "You did. But she just thought it was cute."

"I don't think I ever thanked you for introducing us, Wendy. Thanks."

"I didn't do much. She heard your Transmissions quite without my help."

"You know what I mean."

Yes, she knew. Wendy had rather prodded them into talking to each other because otherwise, they'd both have clammed up. While she wouldn't have guessed they'd be engaged this soon, it didn't surprise her. She smiled, patted his hand, and whispered, "You're welcome."


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Despite having to show up to "sessions" with Dr. Smith, Lucas really didn't look on the If Island imprisonment as all that traumatic an event anymore. Okay, it had been _bad_. No denying that. He'd never been hurt that severely and he never wanted to experience anything remotely close ever again. But it wasn't like he'd never been kidnapped or trapped somewhere he didn't want to be before. He'd been just as scared when he thought some whacko terrorist was going to hurt Sandra, but no one had made such a big deal about that. The whipping scars were gone. Beauregard was dead, and they'd even turned the Mobius Hole trip into something good by preventing an alien abduction that would have been far worse than the few months spent in that dark dodecagon.

He showed up to his silly shrink appointments because the captain said it was mandatory and he was trying to be responsible. Lucas convinced Dr. Smith rather easily that he was just fine. After that, the meetings weren't half bad. It was kinda nice having an appointed time each week when he was allowed to complain as much as he wanted without being looked on as the whiney kid. During sessions, Lucas called her Wendy and they talked like friends even though he addressed her formally all the rest of the time. She wasn't as old as Captain Bridger and Dr. Westphalen, who, although much closer emotionally, he couldn't imagine addressing by their first names, even in private. Wendy probably didn't know it, but Dr. Westphalen's almost daily checks on his well-being, combined with the scientific stimulation he'd missed so much were much more valuable than any form of psychology.

Tim had come up with the idea of asking Will to give semi-private martial arts lessons, evidently prodded by his nervous fiancée. It was a little disheartening that his geeky, four-eyed friend was engaged before he (the guy Juliana had once declared had 'perfect hair') could even land a steady girlfriend. He respected and liked Tim a lot, but he'd never seen that romance train coming. However, now that Tim was engaged and had been promoted to lieutenant, he wasn't the same insecure, social misfit he'd been before. And since Lucas was trying to change his own 'kid mascot/captain's pet' image, he found himself even more drawn to Tim as a friend.

Will agreed to teach the two of them and somehow they'd found a time of day that all three of them were simultaneously available to meet. They started slow at first, mostly because Tim had trouble getting non-swimming muscles to stretch in new ways. Lucas didn't admit that he was sore too because he was younger and he'd always spent a lot more time in the gym. Admittedly, much of that time had been spent watching female crew without much concentration on his exercise, but he wasn't about to tell Tim or Will that.

Will said his methods derived largely from Vovinam with a large influence of Tang Soo Do and Karate. Tim probably appreciated all those foreign terms, but Lucas just wanted to know how to defend himself. And in that respect, Will didn't disappoint them. After the first three workouts, when he noticed Tim was loosening up and that both his students were really putting forth a lot of effort and practicing, Will suggested lessons twice a week. Lucas had been reluctant to ask that much of the new ensign, who had plenty of other responsibilities, but he and Tim both leapt at the offer.

Right about the time that his martial arts lessons increased in frequency, Wendy reduced his required shrink sessions. She could see that he didn't need _that_ much chat time—once a month was a lot more reasonable. Lucas was also helping Tony sporadically with his reading. He'd got most of the basics at a public library program, but Lucas was really proud of him for not stopping there. He was working through the next level on his own, but sometimes he needed a little help. If he asked, Lucas would cut the time from his online gaming to help him out. Tony really didn't ask a lot though. Lucas would never admit it, of course, but his roomie wasn't as dumb as most people thought.

The only thing Lucas missed was the whale-song translation project. He and Miguel had lost momentum with all that happened at the end of the last tour and then the long dry dock time. And now Miguel was putting in more overtime than anyone on the Deinosuchus search and when he wasn't on the bridge, all he wanted to do was eat and sleep. He might have missed Miguel more, except having Dr. Westphalen and Dr. Levin as his bosses meant plenty of work and mental stimulation. They both pushed him to look deeper and learn about other projects outside of his regular areas of interest. Most of the scientists aboard were busy with their own projects despite the fact that _seaQuest_ was stuck in a holding pattern in the South Atlantic. To most of them, ocean was ocean, and they could conduct their research anywhere they happened to be.

All in all, it was _great_ to be back home. He loved seeing Darwin in his bedroom window, eating with his friends, and participating in the science community. And he loved being treated like an adult. Except for delivering Wally to Dr. Britton and a very short visit with the Sutters, _seaQuest_ hadn't stopped since they left New Montevideo, going on six weeks now. And in all that time, Lucas had never entertained thoughts of being 'trapped', like he used to. He was eighteen now, and he could have gotten a job anywhere he wanted to live. Funny how the place that he had often cursed as a 'tin sardine can' was now not only home, but a sweet one. He didn't even think about how long it had been since his last shore leave anymore.

However, when Katie Hitchcock emailed him to ask if he could come spend a week in Pearl to help her with the designs for the new submarine, some of his dormant hunger for adventure bit him in the butt. While they probably weren't going to wrap up the Deinosuchus mess for at least another month, the science team didn't really need him, and neither did the bridge crew. Barring an emergency, they probably wouldn't miss his computer skills at all. He'd already debugged all the upgrades and had her purring like a kitten. Wait, the captain always made all his analogies using nautical references, and he'd started trying to emulate that particular habit. So maybe the computers were purring like a catfish? Hmm. Maybe he'd have to ask Miguel what biologic sounded most like a purr underwater.

Lucas straightened his uniform and knocked on the hatch door bearing the word 'Captain'. Of course, he knew it was also Dr. Westphalen's quarters, and he had done his level best to respect their privacy. They all saw each other at work, in the mess, and in the crew lounge. He didn't visit their quarters very often. "Come in," called a feminine voice.

Lucas opened the hatch just enough to stick his head in. All he saw was the doctor reading a mini computer, seated on the bed, but still in her green coveralls. "I'm sorry to bother you. I was looking for the captain."

"I'm here," said a masculine voice from somewhere on the other side of the room. A little further push on the hatch and he could see Captain Bridger at his desk, signing papers.

Dr. Westphalen beamed a smile at him and beckoned him in. "Come on in, Lucas. We won't bite."

He opened the hatch and stepped inside. "Katie sent me an email asking if I could come to Pearl and help her with the new sub."

"I know," Captain Bridger said. "She asked me if this was a good time. I told her it was a good time for me, but she needed to ask _you_. Aren't you in the middle of martial arts lessons with Ensign Shan?"

Lucas nodded. "Yes, sir, but I can miss a lesson or two. Tim can catch me up on vid-link and I'll use Ben as my practice dummy."

This brought a laugh from both the captain and the doctor. Lucas chuckled with them. He actually could hardly wait to try out some of his new moves on Katie too. She would probably take him down, but at least she would see that he was no longer the helpless wuss she'd known on the first tour. He waited to see if the captain was going to say anything, but he seemed to be waiting for him.

"Is there anything I need to do to get permission," he asked, hastily adding another "sir" and a badly-disguised questioning intonation after that. He knew Captain Bridger didn't require him to adhere to military standards, which was a good thing, since he couldn't always remember all the weird protocols, but since donning the science uniform and asking everyone to use his surname on the bridge, he had been trying to get more of the little things right, just because it amused or pleased the captain. Either way, it made him smile and his smile was worth it. But he wasn't smiling now. He looked puzzled. Lucas tried again. "I mean, like paperwork or anything?"

The smile came then. "No. You just need to check with me, and you've done that." He stood. "She's flying in tomorrow at 0900. Can you be ready then?"

He blinked. Man, Katie didn't mess around now that she had her own private jet copter. "Uh, yeah, I mean, yes sir."

Bridger leaned in and whispered, "You don't have to be that formal in our quarters, Lucas. You know I'm proud of you, right?"

He felt a surge of warm fuzzies amidst the surprise. Not so much surprise that the captain felt proud, but that he'd chosen to voice it. "You are?"

"I'm not the only one who's noticed how much more responsible you've been this tour, how mature." He cast a glance at his wife for support.

She nodded. "Dr. Levin thinks we brainwashed you at Christmas."

_If that was brainwashing, bring on more. _Truthfully though, it had been the best Christmas he could ever remember. He grinned at her. "Oh, I _told_ him you did. _Forced_ me to eat English cookies until I couldn't take it anymore and gave in to your diabolical plans."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Diabolical indeed. Decorating a banana tree with lights and popcorn. Positively nefarious."

"Hey, I liked the Evil Banana Christmas tree."

The captain extended his hand. "Bring us back some macadamia nuts. We'll play poker."

Lucas shook his hand for a second, thought better of it, and went for the hug instead. "I will," he said in the middle of the squeeze.

Neither one of them held the hug for long. When Captain Bridger let go, Lucas found Dr. Westphalen had jumped up from the bed and waited with open arms. "You didn't think I'd let you off _that_ easy, did you?" she teased.

He slipped into her waiting arms and hugged her a little longer than he'd hugged the captain. They'd always let him set the pace for affection, probably because he was at that sensitive stage in life (_I'm too old for hugs_) when he first met them, and because they didn't want to intrude on parental territory (yeah, like _that_ mattered). Although freely offered, Lucas found it difficult to accept what he so desperately needed. But it always felt good when he threw his inhibitions aside and went for it.

He stopped by Tim's cabin next. He heard laughing before he knocked, but when Tim answered, he could see the vid-link and computer screens were both dark. That meant he had to have been talking telepathically to Mary. He used to give Tim a hard time about mind-chatting, and at first, it had made him flustered and embarrassed, but any trace of that reaction was long gone now. Tim could see any snide comment for the jealousy-borne jab it was, and Lucas didn't make a remark he knew would backfire.

"Sorry to interrupt," Lucas said with a grin. "Hi, Mary," he called as if he had an expectation he'd be heard. He didn't know whether she could hear or not, but it was mostly for Tim's benefit anyway, a subtle way of telling him he'd been caught.

Tim smirked and then said, "She says, 'Hi, Lucas.'"

"I'll be quick," he said in a meant-to-be-overheard voice. Then he switched to talking to the person who was actually there. "Just wanted to tell you I'm leaving for Pearl tomorrow. Katie is picking me up in her jet copter at 0900. I'm gonna tell Will to go ahead with the lessons. Record it and email or vid-link it to me, 'kay?"

"Great," he said sarcastically. "That means he'll demonstrate everything on _me_."

Lucas slapped Tim's bicep. "Just think how good you'll get. I'm going to have Katie throw me around, so we'll be even."

Tim gave him an odd look. He'd probably feel uneasy to practice with a woman. Lucas couldn't imagine it with someone his age, but Katie was like a big sister and she was an excellent fighter. She'd be cool about it. She might even have some moves that Will didn't know, or at least hadn't yet shown him.

"I'd like to see that." Tim had an evil grin on his face. "Why don't you send me _your_ video?"

"Uh…" While he didn't mind Katie practicing with him, he wasn't so sure he wanted any video footage in existence which showed him getting thrown around by a woman.

"What's the matter, don't trust me?"

Lucas had to think a second. "With my life, yes. With my _machismo_, no."

Tim shook his head and laughed.

The teen turned quickly to go. "Bye."

He heard Tim call from behind him, "Have fun."

Lucas went back to his quarters and packed. Tony lent him a Hawaiian shirt and gave him way too many pointers on how to get a date with a 'hot native beach babe'. Lucas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sure, he loved to ogle at bikinis as much as the next guy and he'd talk to a girl if a reasonable opportunity presented itself, but he certainly wasn't interested in another trophy date like he'd had with Miguel's cousin. He was just going to admire from afar until he met someone with at least as much brains as Juliana.

"You realize I'm going there to _work_, right?"

"Oh come on, Luke. You know you won't be workin' 24/7."

Yes, he did know. He'd probably put in a lot of hours; he didn't mind that. But Katie wouldn't push him beyond reason when there was no urgency like there'd been when they had to build the _Stinger_ from scratch in just hours instead of months. But there was no arguing with Tony. "Yeah, I'll be _sleeping_ some of the time too. Tell you what, when CommanderHitchcock comes on board, why don't _you_ try and wheedle some playtime out of her after she's come halfway around the world to get me and has to have me back in a week." Man, that would be so funny to watch if Tony tried it. "Oh yeah, and then let it get back to the captain that I'm messing around on _his company's_ time."

Tony threw his hands up in surrender. "I gotcha. Work, not play."

And to Lucas's surprise, he could see that Tony really _did_ get it, at least the part about being responsible with his time. Probably not so much about looking for something more than a pretty package in girls. Still, it was a step in the right direction.

_SeaQuest_ had to surface in order for Katie to land. She did get out and greeted the captain and Commander Ford, but she didn't come inside the sub. Lucas didn't keep her waiting. Everyone exchanged goodbye waves before he got in the jet copter and Katie took off. She went straight up first, so they saw _seaQuest_ disappear under the surface before they shot off.

He and Katie spent the entire time talking about the new sub—what she wanted to do, what she hoped _he_ could do, and what the captain had suggested. He totally agreed that they weren't going to leave Captain Bridger outside of their plans this time. The memory of their mistake with the _Stinger _still stung. She was definitely holding something back though. Every time he started talking about sketches and blueprints, she'd get this big grin.

"All right, what gives?" he finally asked. "I know you're not telling me something. Have you built the hull already or what?"

Katie just grinned bigger. "Nope. You're gonna _love_ the toy I got us though."

_Toy?_ What could she possibly be talking about? "Come on, Katie. Tell me."

She shook her head. "You probably wouldn't believe it anyway. You've got to see it to believe it."

Oh, brother. He would believe her. But he could tell she wasn't going to change her mind no matter how much he cajoled her. He would have to wait. Drat. At least the flight was nearly over. He hated waiting.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Katie zipped around in her jet copter almost as confidently as she could maneuver a VR probe. Lucas felt very safe and secure with her flying. They landed outside the naval base because Katie didn't want to mess with the Navy every time she felt the need to fly somewhere. She parked her jet copter on a private heliopad. Ben Krieg picked them up in a little electric car and took them to the shipyard. They had to pass Navy security, but the gate guard already knew Ben and Katie. Lucas's UEO ident badge coupled with his name on a list got him through.

"Have you told him yet?" Ben asked as they got out of the car.

"No," Katie said. "I told him it was going to be a surprise."

"Man, you're good," he said to her, eyes twinkling. Lucas hadn't asked Ben yet whether Katie was his girlfriend. The two had come to his birthday party together and they seemed to be getting along a lot better than they ever did at sea. Ben was a lot nicer to her and had really reigned in his girl-watching and wisecracks around her. "I can't keep anything from him for more than five minutes." He winked at Lucas while exchanging a high-five.

"Okay, we're here," Lucas said. "I waited. What's the big surprise?"

Ben's grin was even bigger than Katie's had been. "You'll see."

Lucas wanted to growl with frustration, but he controlled himself. It didn't look like a long walk to the building.

"I should probably remind you," Katie said, "that even though we're building this sub privately, I didn't get reinstated with the Reserves for nothing. The 'toy' you're about to see isn't normally available to civilians. Admiral Noyce pulled some strings for us with the proviso that we let the Navy keep it when we're done and we make sure you understand how secret it is. You've got to _promise_ not to tell anyone not cleared by me or Captain Bridger. You understand?" Her voice was dead serious and her icy blue eyes threatening.

Lucas nodded. "I promise."

"That includes people on _seaQuest_," Ben said. "They probably don't even like the fact that _I_ know about it, but I wouldn't shell out this kind of cash without knowing what we're getting. And they do so love someone else buying them expensive toys."

Ben didn't throw around the word 'expensive' lightly. And how ironic whatever this very expensive toy was, that he had to _donate_ it back to the Navy? The peculiarities of Ben's expenditure under such odd circumstances only made Lucas more curious. He wanted to scream 'What is it already?' but he bit back the urge. The tin Quonset with peeling paint didn't look like it was secure enough to hold anything too expensive or top secret, but it was part of the Navy base, so the building didn't have to be secure in itself. Katie opened the door and ushered him forward with sweep of her hand.

The lights inside were about half of normal illumination, but when Lucas saw the laser head's up display emanating from the base of massive computer console, he understood why. He stopped in his tracks, jaw dropped, gawking in utter disbelief. He didn't even think these really existed outside of science fiction. In fact, it just couldn't be what he thought it was, could it? Katie and Ben were both watching him, breaths held. Lucas found his voice, filled with awe, "Is that a Virtual CAD?"

"Told you he'd know," Katie said matter-of-factly.

"Yep," Ben said, smiling from ear to ear. "State-of-the-art Jarvis. The designer had a thing for the old Iron Man movies with Robert Downey, Jr. This baby does everything the fictional one could do, except it doesn't build the parts here. It'll spit out blueprints that we can get machined elsewhere. It'll do full-sized as well as scale models. It's voice activated and everything." He faced the computer and spoke again: "Show _seaQuest I_."

"Voiceprint recognize Benjamin Krieg. Complying with request," the computer voice said. It sounded very close to the Jarvis voice and speech pattern Lucas remembered from the old movie. Laser light danced into place and formed a three-dimensional line draft of _seaQuest I, _three feet long, hovering above the console_. _It turned in midair slowly_._

"Show _seaQuest II_."

"Instead of, or in addition?"

"In addition."

The second _seaQuest_ appeared just above it, parallel in position and turning at the same speed.

"Well," Katie said, "what do you think?"

Lucas was too bowled over to talk. His mouth kept opening, but he couldn't produce any words. It was as beautiful as CentSys, maybe even better, because he was going to get to use it. Finally, he managed, "It's beyond cool."

Katie smiled. "Told you you'd love it." She stepped closer to the computer and raised her voice. "Jarvis, recognize voiceprint."

"Identification confirmed. Welcome back, Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock."

"Please encode new voiceprint authorization. Wolenczak. W-O-L-E-N-C-Z-A-K. Lucas."

"Security level?"

"Beta three. He'll be working with you extensively."

"State your name for voiceprint identification please, Mr. Wolenczak."

"Lucas Wolenczak. You can call me 'Lucas', Jarvis."

"Voiceprint authorization activated and preferred address confirmed, Lucas."

"You sure we didn't crash, because I think I've died and gone to heaven," Lucas breathed to Katie.

She laughed. "Good. So far, this is all that I can get it to do." She pointed to the slowly spinning designs of the past two incarnations of _seaQuest_. "You're here to learn all the ins and outs of working with this baby, then you're going to hold my hand and show me the ropes, okay?"

"You got it," Lucas said with a smile so big it hurt his cheeks.

"So," Ben said with a playful grin, "you want to go get a bite to eat or play with the toy?"

"Who has time to eat? Get me hooked up to an IV or something." He was only half joking. He stepped closer to the laser display, gawking in awe.

"Take out," Ben and Katie said simultaneously, voices laced with humor.

"What do you want to eat?" Ben asked.

Lucas was so transfixed with the computer that he didn't check to see whether Ben was talking to him or Katie. "Whatever," he mumbled, just in case.

"Chinese," he might have heard a feminine voice say. Lucas couldn't be sure anymore because everything around him except for Jarvis was fading from reality. He dove in with gusto, reaching full Hacker Nirvana, determined to do exactly what Katie asked him and learn the ins and outs of Virtual CAD.

At some point, the food arrived. He vaguely remembered putting some of it in his mouth. He also remembered trying to make small talk with his hosts while they were standing in his proximity, but failing miserably to get his mind off the magnificent toy. Ben ordered Jarvis to make sure Lucas ate at regular intervals because it was abundantly clear that he couldn't think about anything so trivial as food.

Ben and Katie had to physically pry him away that night in order to get some sleep. Katie said he'd been at it for ten hours. With the time zone changes and jet lag, he couldn't even begin to remember when he last slept. They drove him off base, to a nice condo with a harbor view and Lucas paid attention to where it was in relation to the shipyard, already planning his escape. He wouldn't even have to catch a bus, it was so close.

Ben and Katie shared the condo, but they had separate bedrooms. They'd made up a nice guest room for Lucas and he had to admit he was tired and the bed was comfortable. After six hours of sleep, however, the teen awoke with Jarvis on the brain. He left a note on the refrigerator and walked the mile and a half to the shipyard. It was 0500 and still dark.

Katie was peeved when she arrived an hour later and she didn't hesitate to use her scathing reprimand voice. "I'm glad you're having fun, Lucas, and we need your expertise, but you really shouldn't be walking around alone in the middle of the night."

"Oh come on. This is Honolulu, not Washington. Can't you trust me?"

"Yes, I trust you. It's weirdoes out there," she thumbed over her shoulder, "that I don't trust."

"Did you know Will Shan has been giving me martial arts lessons? I can take care of myself now."

She relaxed her frown slightly. "Really?"

"Yes. In fact, if you have time, I promised Tim and Will that I'd get on the mat with _you_." He gave her his best charming smile. He couldn't stand having Katie cross with him.

"You're on," she said. Then she turned to the computer. "Jarvis, if Lucas arrives before sunrise and he is not accompanied by either myself or Mr. Krieg, he is not authorized to access your program."

"Authorization control noted, Commander. At what point after sundown does this protocol come into play?"

She stared straight at Lucas, but it was obvious she was still talking to Jarvis: "At the point when he leaves the building for the night. And if he ever tries to leave after 2100 without one of us, then you will call my portable vid-link number and inform me immediately."

"Very well, Commander."

Lucas frowned. Jarvis the Wonderful was going to be his babysitter? "Why are you treating me like a kid? I'm an adult now!"

"Oh yeah? Well, Ben and I are adults too, but we don't go out alone in the middle of the night. You can go anywhere you want during the day. I'm not asking you to spend every waking moment in this tin can, expensive toys or not. I remember what it was like living on a submarine. Get some sun. Rent a bike and tour the island. Go surfing. And if you want to go out at night, take Ben or have him drop you off. We won't bug you with a curfew. Call us or get a taxi home. Just don't assume that because you have a Jarvis that you're suddenly Iron Man."

"Okay, I get it. Walking alone in the dark was stupid. I'm sorry."

She relaxed. "Apology accepted." She even put her arm around his shoulders to show him she didn't harbor bad feelings. Lucas felt a little guilty that he'd popped off with the babysitting assumption. Responsibility also meant using common sense and he'd forgotten that in the excitement over the computer system.

* * *

Four days later, Lucas and Jarvis had practically joined into a single entity. Jarvis wasn't a mere tool; it was an extension of Lucas's mind. Katie still hadn't named the new submarine, but she had opened a file by the name "Project Calypso" to contain all pertinent work. Lucas had already designed six different systems in the course of figuring out how the Virtual CAD worked. Katie would have to review the designs later and have models made to see if they would prove viable. She was the refiner and tweaker; he was more a concept guy.

The file automatically downloaded every 12 hours to a Navy server where Captain Bridger and Admiral Noyce could access it at any time. That was the price for using the military design system and the shipyard. Katie didn't seem to mind. Why would she? The Navy had their chance to build this sub and they refused, so now they could only watch and drool with envy.

Lucas fully intended for Project Calypso to blow the whole world away. This was important to Katie, because she would be the head engineer as well as the one laying out all the money. Captain Bridger wasn't resting on his laurels either. In all their discussions, he'd always been very frank about where the present _seaQuest_ fell short of his expectations. He had ideas for improvements that truly impressed Katie but he didn't hesitate to listen to hers or Lucas's ideas and concede where theirs were better.

But Lucas could also tell that this new submarine was important to the captain in some way beyond just the _seaQuest_ legacy. There was an undercurrent of urgency to all this, a sense that building this submarine was somehow crucial to the health and survival of the oceans themselves. Lucas was sure that Major Allen, the Time Guardian who'd been their host in twenty-second century England, had told the captain some things about the future that the captain hadn't shared, things that no one would believe or things so horrible he wouldn't burden anyone else with.

When Congress kept saying no, his frustration had been more than just a setback to his personal aspirations. Lucas knew that look and that sigh because that was how the captain had acted the first time he ever spoke about Carol. It was _grief_. Without asking, Lucas knew that if this sub didn't get built, that it would grieve Captain Bridger more deeply than he would ever admit.

The young genius didn't need to know _why_ this project was so critical to the man he loved more than a father. If it was important to Captain Bridger, then it was important to Lucas by default, no matter what the reason was. Lucas had his own reasons, too, of course. He'd been cocky designing the _Stinger_ and he was ready to show everyone that he'd learned from that. Not to mention, he was a bit sore that his slideshow pitch to Congress had been so ineffective. Making the new sub 'kick-butt' would be the best revenge against the tightwad politicians he could think of.

Katie didn't have the computer skills to figure out a sophisticated Virtual CAD program the same way Lucas did, but she was extremely sharp and only had to watch him once before nailing a procedure. With Lucas to guide her, she and Jarvis also hit it off famously in quite a short time. He was proud of how well she'd taken to his teaching and happy that she grasped the value of the tool. After all, he had to get back to _seaQuest_ eventually. Katie was the real engineer, so Lucas backed off and yielded Jarvis to her capable use.

Extracting himself from the artificial intelligence system left a deep hole, like someone had yanked away his favorite hammer, but it had been embedded in his hand so deeply that skin and muscle went with it. He grew a little melancholy at the loss, not unlike right after he pulled the CentSys rods and killed the most advanced computer he'd ever seen. Sheesh, what would Wendy say about all this moping over a computer? He needed to snap out of it.

It was during his withdrawal phase that he noticed Ben again. _Where had he been the whole time?_ It didn't take long for Lucas to figure it out. Falling back quite naturally into Supply and Morale, it was Ben who made sure everyone else had what they needed. Lucas hadn't given food a second thought since the first day he arrived. But Ben was the one keeping the buffet table stocked with fruit, cheese, muffins, and nuts. The fridge also held three kinds of fruit juice thanks to him. The coffee maker had an automatic timer to brew every four hours, but someone had to make sure fresh grounds were sitting in the machine, ready for the brewing. And all that carry-out food didn't just magically appear at lunch and dinnertime either.

Katie was now ignoring food just like Lucas had. Jarvis really should come with intravenous feeding. But Ben left Katie to her work just as he'd left Lucas, fading into the background. When he wasn't busy procuring or preparing food, he was either on the vid-link, haggling over steel specifications, or on the computer, working out the schedules of the thousands of people who were going to be involved in the nuts, bolts, and arc welding. Lucas couldn't remember him ever being so swamped with work.

"Can't you just hire somebody to do all this?" he asked.

"I could, but then what would I be good for? Katie has you and the captain to design everything this boat could need, with the possible exception of a popcorn popper. I've already found the one I think should be installed and submitted it for her review."

Lucas would have laughed, but Ben looked so serious. "The _popcorn popper_?"

"You know, for movie night."

"Ben, this is going to be the most sophisticated research submarine ever built and you're worried about the popcorn?"

"Nope. I'm making sure the steel has the right tensile strength and that the carpet layers don't show up before the keel is laid. And it may not look like it, but I _do_ know what I'm doing, and I'm pretty good at it."

"But I thought you were the financial guy. Isn't that just about money and accounting and stuff like that?"

"It is. But it's real easy for a project like this to become a black hole that sucks up cash. People see that Sherman Oil logo and inflate their prices because they think we're not paying attention. I'm not skimping when it counts, but I'm not going to let anyone take Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns to the cleaners either. Watching out for Katie's money means I've got to see how it's spent and this is the best way to do that."

_Wow, Ben Krieg was getting responsible._ Lucas leaned a little closer and whispered, "So are you two…" He cast a glance at Katie who was completely oblivious to everything but the laser lines of the propulsion system on Jarvis's display right now. "…_together_?"

Ben shrugged. "She's let me live under her roof and she hasn't chewed me out in almost six months, but no, I don't think I can say we're 'together'. I never stopped loving her. She, on the other hand… well, I take all the blame for that. I was a jerk when we were married and I've been a pretty lousy ex. I'm damned lucky she's giving me a second chance at all. I like how things are now, so I'm not going to push. We're taking it at _her_ speed this time."

"But you _want_ to get back together?"

His eyes lingered on the woman lost in concentration. "I know she wants kids and I'm pretty sure she wants them to have a father. Yeah, I'd like to be in the running for that position, but that's really up to her. I'm trying to get the hang of this _dependable_ gig. If I can hack it, I think I might have a chance." He cracked a wide grin, staring at her, then he snapped out of it and looked at Lucas like he'd just hopped off the jet copter. "What about you? I see you got a haircut and last time we called, I thought I saw you actually wearing the science department uniform."

Lucas couldn't hide a shy smile. "Yeah, well, that responsibility virus sure gets around. I even got the captain to stop calling me 'kiddo' on the bridge."

Ben pretended this was the most shocking thing he'd ever heard, but Lucas could see right through his act.

"He still says it in private though."

"You'd be hurt if he didn't."

Lucas opened his mouth to deny it, but shut it and nodded instead. "Yeah, probably."

Ben drew a deep breath and changed the subject. "Any visits to Node 3 lately?" His inflection made clear he was fishing for intel on Juliana.

"Nope. We've been stuck in the South Atlantic since the tour started, except for one short trip to New Ausland."

"Well, she came to your birthday. That's something."

Lucas nodded. "Yeah, and she sent me an email."

"She, who?" Ben said with mock innocence.

He smirked. "The same 'she' who came to my birthday: Juliana."

"I must say, she's cute. So what did her email say?"

A shrug. "Nothing exciting, just work stuff."

"Hey, don't knock 'work stuff', kid. She took the time to tell you something about her life. Maybe she's hoping you'll call her."

Another shrug. "Maybe." He still liked Juliana, but the thought of calling her scared him. He got tongue-tied when he was with her. He wished she could be like Sandra when it came to conversation. She'd been so easy to talk to, so comfortable. But that was an unfair expectation, since Sandra had been conning him the whole time. Real girls without evil agendas weren't like that.

He was lost in thought when Ben patted his back. "You okay?"

"Sure. I just miss playing with Jarvis."

"You better not let Darwin hear you say that."

Lucas chuckled. No wonder he was uncomfortable with women. His best friend was a dolphin and his favorite toy in the world was so top secret that he couldn't tell anyone about it. "I just wanna know when I can get another turn."

Ben cringed. "I don't know. She looks pretty enthralled. I don't think she'll come up for air anytime soon."

"So who's taking me back to _seaQuest_?"

"Katie was planning to, but she didn't expect you to grasp the program and turn around and teach her quite this fast. And now that the _transplant_ is complete, I don't know if we can tear her away."

Transplant. That's exactly how he would have described it. He mentally kicked himself for not having thought to feign ignorance to get more playtime with Jarvis. "Well, I guess I should take her advice and get some sunshine. How 'bout it, up for the beach?"

Ben pointed to the computer. "I'm up to my eyeballs in work. Nobody takes me seriously if I make calls in my swimsuit."

"Put it on audio only," Lucas suggested.

"Yeah, right, like they won't hear the wind and waves crashing. How about tomorrow?" That would be Saturday when most businesses were closed.

"Okay." Lucas headed for the door.

"So where you going now?"

"It's 1330, Ben. Broad daylight." He adopted a sort of babytalk tone. "Mama Bear said I could go outside in the daytime. Don't tell me you're gonna ground me just because _you_ can't go to the beach today."

He put both hands up. "Hey, just asking. Me and Mama Bear care about you, but we know you're no longer Baby Bear."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'll be home by dark, Papa Bear."

Ben gave him a mischievous smile. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Which you? Now or when I actually _knew_ you?"

"You know me now, you just can't believe I'm the same guy."

"My point exactly."

"What am I saying? You're no idiot. Go on. Scram. Have a good time."

Lucas waved. "Bye, Katie," he called, knowing full well she'd never register him talking to her right now anyhow. He opened the door, pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes, and stepped into the bright Hawaiian sun. _Time to catch some rays._


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Nathan left the bridge at the end of his watch, bored out of his skull. Yes, he understood that finding all these pre-historic crocs and eliminating them was important. He'd conceded that six weeks ago. But it was getting insanely tedious to do nothing but slug along from one Scatter-Com launch point to the next, log hours and hours a day of WSKRS scans, and then follow up with butchering innocent creatures. There was no reason the UEO couldn't send some other subs and maybe a surface science ship to carry out the DNA tests.

They'd been back to Ford-Freeport Aquaculture and Ben Ford had carefully cordoned off the areas where eggshells had been found so that Dr. Smith and Dr. Levin could investigate. Dr. Levin could have done it by himself, but Wendy wanted to see this particular project through. Every single dead Deinosuchus they'd tested had been a direct offspring of the 182-foot mama, so it stood to reason that if they found all her eggs and counted how many hatched, they would know how many were still out there.

They dug up 27 eggs on Ford-Freeport property, of which only eleven had hatched. The fact that less than half had 'pulled a Crichton' seemed to make Wendy feel a little better. The trouble was, they only had nine confirmed kills. Adding in Wally, who was reportedly doing very well in New Ausland, there was still one missing. And that didn't even count the very real possibility that Mama had laid some eggs in a spot no one had yet discovered.

He stalked into his quarters to find Kristin already there. She was her usual bubbly self, which made him a little envious. Why didn't all this affect her as negatively as it did him? "We still haven't found the last one," he reported glumly.

"Crocodiles _do_ have natural predators, especially when they're young. We would never expect all that hatched to reach adulthood, even without people hunting them," Kristin said.

"Yes, but can we take the chance of leaving one behind?"

She placed her hands on her hips. "It's a risk, of course, but what else can we do? At some point, we're going to have to end the fruitless searching and hope we got them all. If one did escape all our diligence, then it won't go unnoticed very long. Sooner or later, its appetite will expose it."

"That's what worries me. The South Atlantic is still reeling from Mama's eating binge last year."

She slipped in behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her warm breath on his neck, she whispered, "You are not responsible for this, Nathan. _You_ didn't heat up the oceans enough to melt the ice that set the mother free. As I recall,_ you_ were the one sacrificing your dream and very nearly your life to prevent every speck of ice on this planet from melting."

He sighed. "I know. But some idiot somewhere is pinning this on us, or we'd have been allowed to leave the area and let someone else clean up the loose ends."

"Are you restless because we haven't had a crisis?" Kristin wasn't quite in full mock-the-military mode, but she was dangerously close, and what was worse, there was probably some truth to her doggone female intuition. He did rather wish for some excitement.

"No, I'm frustrated because I've been reduced to assassinating animals for being born in the wrong epoch while the best scientists in the world are stuck doing crocodile post-mortems. None of us signed on for this kind of duty."

She scoffed. "Well, there isn't always a lab assistant we can force to clean the dirty test tubes."

He chuckled and turned to face her without wiggling out of her embrace. "Or some poor enlisted sailor to mop the floor. Point taken, Doctor."

At this, Kristin frowned. "Actually, you don't even have a sailor doing that now. You have a mentally challenged GELF. I've been meaning to ask you: what's the story on Dagwood?"

"Story? He's an Alpha Model K, one of the prototypes of the GELF project."

Her face contorted into impatience. "I can _see_ that. But why is he here, on _seaQuest_?"

Nathan shrugged. "He was here the first time I came aboard. Someone assigned him to clean up. After he saved O'Neill's life when the communications array fell on him, we asked if he wanted to stay. He said yes and he's been here ever since."

"Was he ever given any _other_ choice? Has anyone tried to help him learn to read or asked him if he might want to do something else with his life rather than mop and clean? We don't know the GELF life expectancy yet. Would _you_ want to be stuck as a janitor for fifty years?"

"Well, no, but he's never expressed any aspirations."

"That's because everyone treats him like an idiot." She'd backed away from him and launched into her growling mother bear protection mode, pacing slowly. "Do you know that while the whole rest of the crew was on extended leave last fall, the only days he didn't clean were when we took _skyQuest_ out those two times. He has no home to go to and no other source of income. And he's got to know on some level that he's different and shunned by the general public. Sure, _seaQuest_ gets a wonderfully diligent janitor, but what does _Dagwood_ get?"

"He gets paid, just like everybody else," Nathan said a little too defensively. Truthfully though, he didn't know if Dagwood really did get paid and whether it was even a living wage. He wasn't enlisted and he certainly wasn't being paid by any research grants. Lucas hadn't been getting paid until he whined about it, but he'd still been a minor dependent then, presumably taken care of by his parents. Dagwood didn't have any parents. For all Nathan knew, the Navy had been exploiting the man, paying him only with room and board.

But nothing slipped by Kristin's hawk-like senses. "Really? How much?"

He sighed. "I don't know, but I intend to find out. And if he hasn't been paid, I will make sure he gets back wages."

She softened her frown a little, but she snorted softly. "Well, that's a _start_."

"What more do you want from me? If he wants to leave, you know I wouldn't stop him. I never put pressure on him to stay in the first place. It was _his_ choice. He's become part of the crew. He has friends here, people who look beyond his mottled skin and slow speech. Jonathan risked his career giving him a night out when he was falsely convicted of murder. Lucas and Tony let him tag along when they're on shore leave." He let the frustration from his last boring watch seep into his tone. "What more do you see him doing? It's not like he'd be able to go to college or anything."

"College?" she squeaked. "The poor man doesn't even know the alphabet!"

"He needs special teachers. We can't accommodate that here."

"Wendy has the time and the patience, Nathan. Dagwood trusts her. And she isn't spending nearly as much time counseling anymore."

Why did he get the feeling that the lady doctors had been in cahoots? "And how does Wendy feel about this?"

"I haven't asked her yet. It doesn't appear she questioned his plight any more than you did, but I'd be willing to bet she'd help him if she had your blessing."

"Did you really think I'd object? As long as you've got Medbay covered and she doesn't feel like she's neglecting her counseling or her parapsychology studies and she _wants_ to do it, then of course she has my blessing. Americans fought a Civil War over slavery, Kristin. I don't intend to let it infect my boat in any way, shape, or form."

"I wasn't accusing you of running a slave ship, Nathan." She slipped in front of him, her face compassionate this time.

"No, but you were right. I don't think anyone has given Dagwood any other choice but to mop floors and clean heads. He became a citizen when all the other GELFs did, but I'm not sure anyone has ever explained what that means, _to him_. Even the lowest enlisted man volunteered to join the Navy and knew what he was getting into." After a short pause when some of the very odd situations _seaQuest_ had gotten into shot to the forefront of his mind, he added, "Mostly."

"I didn't mean to suggest you were deliberately taking advantage of him. Everyone is remarkably kind to him."

"He's saved all our butts several times. _SeaQuest_ would have been completely overrun by carnivorous plants if he hadn't been able to throw the manual ballast controls." He snapped his fingers. "I've got to remember to bring that up with Katie. There's no point in having a manual override that requires super-human strength to operate."

"Indeed," Kristin said right before she kissed him. It had been a long day and the second her lips touched his, he realized he should have done this first. She had a way of making him forget his petty problems. He relaxed in her arms just before she broke the kiss and spoke again. "You might ask her when we're getting Lucas back. I think Darwin is ready to stage a protest if I don't give him a straight answer."

"Oh? Well, I guess we'd better tell him _something_," Nathan said good-naturedly. "He already knows he can run the whole boat himself. If we're not careful, he'll incite a mutiny." He didn't really think Darwin would ever try such a thing. He'd only taken command when all the officers were gone and the humans told him he was in charge. And despite the UEO having a fit to have discovered that the crew allowed a dolphin to have that much power, no one could argue with the results and no one had the guts to revoke his honorary commission as an ensign either.

"What time is it in Hawaii?" Kristin asked. "Maybe we should call. He hasn't made a peep the whole time he's been gone, has he?"

"No, but I've seen what he's been working on. Buying that Virtual CAD system was a stroke of genius, even if it _was_ Ben Kreig's idea. You should see the aquatube system for the new boat. It's spectacular."

"Are we going to lose him?" Kristin sounded concerned. He was a valuable member of her team as well as a sort of surrogate son.

"We might," Nathan admitted with a sigh. It had been a risk even before the fancy toy. "But I'm not going to push him even slightly. His father forced him onto _seaQuest_ when he was just sixteen. He's old enough now to decide for himself if he wants to be here and I'm not going to try to sway him just because I miss the hell out of him."

"You should mention that he's missed, both for his skills _and_ personally."

"I intend to," he said, "and you should too." He looked at his watch, did a quick mental calculation and sat down at the vid-link terminal. "It's not too late there. I'm calling now." He opened up his personal list, found the number Katie had used the last time she called, and hit the call button. Kristin moved in behind him and stood where she could see and be seen.

The UEO trident symbol that was the default screen displayed while the connection was going through. As long as the boat wasn't at general quarters, he wouldn't need anyone from communications to route his call. The ringer sounded quite a few more times than Katie usually took to answer and he was about to hang up and try her cell when the screen irised from the static trident to a video feed with Katie's haggard face in the middle. Ben moved in behind her, also looking grave. Kristin gasped.

"What is it?" Nathan asked, trying not to sound like a CO demanding a report.

"Lucas hasn't come home yet," Katie said.

"Well, where is he?" Kristin asked.

Ben sighed. "We don't know. Katie was using the Jarvis, so he decided to get some fresh air. I think he was headed to Waikiki."

"Getting some sun was my suggestion, sir," Katie put in.

"But he promised me he'd be home by dark," Ben countered. Nathan couldn't tell if he was trying to make Katie feel less guilty or if he was making excuses for himself.

"What time is it there?" He didn't doubt his calculations nor did he really think the readout text which always flashed the local time was wrong. It was a stall tactic, designed to give his heart-rate a couple of seconds to normalize.

"Twenty-two thirty eight," Katie said. "We called the police and they laughed at us. Lucas is eighteen and this is a young person's paradise. And he's less than four hours overdue."

"It's everyone's paradise," Kristin mumbled. "But that doesn't mean Lucas would be that late and not call."

"We talked about this the first morning he was here," Katie said, her brows knit in obvious worry. "I gave him quite the verbal smackdown, sir. He walked from our condo to the shipyard at zero-five-hundred. While I could believe he'd get distracted if he was working with Jarvis, I don't believe he could somehow fail to notice it got dark if he was at the beach."

"Wait. _Lucas_ was up at zero-five-hundred? Our Lucas?" Although the teen had never been late for staff meetings or bridge duty since the new tour started, Nathan remembered him sleeping in quite late almost every day back on Bridger's Island.

"Yes, sir. And I chewed him out for it because it was still dark when he was out by himself. He agreed with me that it was stupid and he promised not to do it again. I can't imagine he's forgotten that."

There was a pregnant pause. Nathan didn't like this one damned bit. Lucas had learned the curfew lesson and he'd been working hard at being responsible. On top of that, he knew the kid respected Katie. He might screw around with Ben, but not with her. If Kristin was his surrogate mother, then Katie was like an older sister.

Ben broke the silence, but with a soft and respectful tone. "We were going to call you as soon as it was zero seven hundred there, sir. We didn't want to wake you up for something like this."

"It's my fault," Katie said. "I told him he could go anywhere he wanted during the day."

"No, it's my fault," Ben argued. "He asked me to go with him to the beach and I told him I had too much work to do."

"It's neither of your faults," Nathan said sternly. "I didn't expect you to drop work to play with him…" he met eyes with Ben for a beat and then turned to Katie, "…or keep him cooped up indoors in the middle of the day. Neither of you did anything wrong, but I think we all agree this tardiness is out of character for the new, more responsible Lucas, right?"

Katie nodded. "We're both very worried, but the police said we couldn't even file a missing person report until he's been overdue for twenty-four hours." She stopped there, but Nathan knew she was thinking the same thing he was, the same thing Kristin had to be and probably Ben too. If Lucas had been mugged, he could be lying in an alley bleeding to death and waiting that long might be fatal.

"I'll call Admiral Noyce if it gets to that point, but I'd rather not mention this to the Navy right after we let him in on the Jarvis secret. You and I both know Lucas would never sell out, but the brass will assume that first."

Katie and Ben both nodded. "We've combed all the beaches twice already, but we'll keep trying," Katie said.

"I think I may know someone in Pearl who can help—a chaplain, Lieutenant Stanley Baker. His office is on the sixth floor of the main admin building. He helped us during the _Fifi_ incident and he's met Lucas personally. Get in touch with him. Maybe he can round up some help without creating suspicion."

Katie wrote down the name as she mouthed it to herself. "Got it, sir. We should have called you earlier, but we kept hoping he'd just gone into a restaurant for a bite to eat and lost track of time, and then it got so late there that we didn't want to disturb you."

"You both know that local time is irrelevant on a submarine. I appreciate your concern, but don't hesitate to call me as soon as you hear anything, no matter what time it is. I have a feeling I'm not going to get any sleep now anyway."

"Understood, sir. We won't be sleeping until we find him either."

The picture irised out and left the UEO trident glaring back at them. Neither of them spoke for at least two full minutes. Kristin leaned over and put her arms around his neck. "You should let me give you a sedative. You still have responsibilities that require you to get some sleep. There's nothing you can do from here. You know that, right?"

"Yes, but that only makes it harder. I can't stand being helpless."

"It could still be a simple mistake. Maybe he went into an arcade or something."

"You don't believe that any more than I do."

She sighed heavily. "No, but I also know that imaginations tend to blow things out of proportion. Don't assume the worst."

"If he's not incapacitated, he'd _better_ have a damned good reason for not contacting his hosts or I'll pull him off this project, regardless of his stunning abilities and my personal feelings towards him. We're trusting him with serious military hardware, Kristin. For his own safety as well as all of our concern, he's got to be more careful."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I'm worried about him too."


	40. Chapter 40

_**A/N: This is fair warning that this chapter contains an expletive. I have masked it, but it's very obvious what was really meant. Please see author's note at the end for further news, especially if this kind of thing bothers you.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Chapter 40**

Lucas groaned as he opened his eyes. His head was pounding and his vision was blurry. His whole body felt like lead. He pulled his hand up to rub his eyes and was startled to hear metal rattling. The sound was immediately followed by the sensation of a restraint around his wrist and panic grabbed him full force. "No! Not again!" he gasped.

But the fact that he had movement and the ability to speak meant that this wasn't like Beauregard's prison. He used the other hand to explore the rattling wrist and discovered he was wearing a shackle attached to a chain that was in turn bolted to the wall. He rubbed his eyes, but his vision didn't clear. The room he was in was dimly lit from above, like maybe with a bulb the size of a Christmas tree light. He could barely see anything. The room seemed very small though. Smaller even than that cell on If Island.

It hurt to move, but he somehow managed to sit up. He reached out and touched the walls. The chain was only two feet long, but the room was only slightly larger than the lumpy mattress he woke up on, so he could reach it with the other arm. He estimated no more than 6x4 feet for the whole room. The walls and the floor were cold metal. There was a window in the door, but it was dark on the other side, not that it would have done him much good while his eyes weren't focused anyway. He tried the doorknob with his free hand, but it didn't budge. It was very similar to the hatch doors on _seaQuest_, except that it had a regular knob instead of a wheel. His first thought was that he was in an older undersea habitat. Of course, this dinky room was more like a storage closet and therefore hadn't been built to seal off and keep water out. But now he was standing on the floor, Lucas could feel vibrations, which meant he was on a boat or submarine of some kind.

"Hey! Get me out of here!" he yelled while pounding on the metal door with his free hand. He pounded for a good half-minute, but when nobody came, he slumped down on the mattress again. Someone had purposely chained him to the wall and locked the door and they weren't going to let him out just because he made some noise. His head hurt too much to continue anyway. Besides, some part of him couldn't forget what happened the last time he made noise to try to annoy a captor. He shuddered from head to toe just thinking about it. No, this time he was going to try to be more compliant and hopefully avoid unpleasant consequences.

_How did I get here anyway?_ He struggled to remember what happened. He'd been in Honolulu, not on _seaQuest_. Ben and Katie were busy working at the shipyard. He remembered feeling empty and somewhat lost after Katie took over Jarvis. The memory was emotionally painful, like he'd lost an appendage or something. But that hadn't landed him here. He'd had a little chat with Ben and felt a bit better. Ben wasn't the same guy he'd known, but then again, neither was Lucas. And while Lucas missed the happy-go-lucky guy who took him along on scheming adventures, he realized it was no more fair to miss what Ben used to be than it would be for Ben to be angry at him for wearing the science department uniform and getting a haircut.

Lucas shook his head gently, trying to clear the cobwebs of confusion. He needed to remember what happened. He and Ben had chatted about Katie and Juliana. That part of the new Ben he really appreciated. Before, Ben had been so superficial when he talked about women. Beach Babes of Barcelona hidden in his boots and all that. But Lucas got enough of that shallow tripe with Tony. Now, although he still appreciated pretty, Ben had somehow figured out that Katie didn't appreciate him talking about women like they were _objets d'art_. And even more surprising was that Ben apparently did find other qualities in Katie that he could admire, like her astounding engineering skills and her sharp mind.

This new Ben was the kind of confidant Lucas needed to talk to about girls, someone who would 'get' why he wanted more than a pretty face, someone who wasn't going to push him to 'be stupid' as they'd once put it. And Ben had even sensed he wanted to talk about it; he'd hinted around about Juliana enough. Lucas felt badly that he hadn't taken advantage of the moment. He should have told Ben what happened with Sandra and why he'd felt completely gun-shy about girls ever since. Ben probably would have understood and said something cheesy but profound that would have made him laugh and still feel hopeful all at the same time.

But Lucas had pushed for a beach trip instead. Ben was too busy and Lucas had decided to go by himself to 'punish' him for it. There were at least fifty other things Lucas could have done without Jarvis to help Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns. He could have taken the high road, made himself useful, and gone to the beach the next day when Ben was available, but instead, he'd fallen back on old habits to try to make Ben feel guilty. Lucas mentally kicked himself. That stupid tactic had never worked with his father or mother. What had possessed him to think it would work on Ben?

Worse, why did he even think Ben deserved it? Ben and Katie didn't owe him anything. They could have paid Jarvis's programmer to come help them learn to use it. Computer software that sophisticated probably had in-person tutorials as part of the purchase price, but even if it didn't, it couldn't have cost much more than fuel to go all the way out to the South Atlantic to pick him up and take him back, not to mention how much of Katie's time got wasted doing the flying. He'd been darned lucky they'd let him be involved at all. And far from ignoring him, they'd been concerned about his eating and going out alone (and in retrospect, with good reason) and they hadn't been offended when _he_ had all but ignored _them_ for four solid days, or was it five?

But running off like a spoiled kid still didn't explain how he ended up here. He was pretty sure he didn't stay out after dark. He'd promised both Ben and Katie he wouldn't do that and he couldn't fathom setting out to defy them. A mild little guilt trip was one thing, but he'd been trying too hard to act responsible and keep his word to pull something _that _childish. Yet, his memory was fuzzy about what happened after he went back to the condo, changed clothes, and then walked to the beach. Why couldn't he remember?

He stopped trying to remember the beach itself in an attempt to focus on why his memory was failing him and why his vision was blurred. He started exploring his skin to see if he'd been drugged. His inner elbows and the backs of his hands were clean. Okay, so no professional had started an IV drip. That wasn't comforting, but it made sense. If he'd been hit by a car and then attended by medical professionals, he should have ended up in a bright, cheery hospital with Ben and Katie's worried faces staring over him. Hospitals didn't tend to use locked closets or chain patients to the wall.

His headache didn't seem to be localized, which probably ruled out any kind of head trauma as the initiating force. _So much for getting hit by a car_. Then he found a painful spot on the back of his neck and touching it gave him a short burst of memory. He had felt a sharp sting and every muscle tensed up. He'd wanted to lash out with a roundhouse kick, just like Will had taught him, but he couldn't make his legs obey, couldn't turn his head to see who had thrust the sharp needle into his neck. And then everything went black.

He was making progress. He remembered the split-second before he lost consciousness, but where had he been? Surely if someone had stuck a needle in his neck on a public beach, there would have been dozens of witnesses. Someone should have seen him slump into a heap and collapse and have to be dragged off on a stretcher or several people lifting him. He'd like to think that lifeguards would come up and question anyone with an unconscious body. "Hey, what are you doing? Do you need help? Can we call an ambulance?" You'd think.

Had he been snorkeling, maybe? Maybe he'd been in a secluded cove or something. It didn't sound all that appealing to him right now. How could he have mustered up any excitement to go snorkeling when he could swim with Darwin any time he wanted to and he'd just taken a SCUBA dive off the Great Barrier Reef within the last month, and Bridger's Island the month before that? And why could he remember what he'd done two months ago and two days ago, but not what he'd been doing just before he passed out? If he _had_ been snorkeling or even just swimming, he _could_ have been stung by a stingray or a jellyfish in the back of the neck, but it didn't seem too likely. He knew what jellyfish stings felt like and it wasn't a single sharp jab, nor would he have had to touch the spot for the pain to come back. That intense itchy burn could wake the dead.

He'd never been stung by a stingray, but the logistics of how the back of his neck could ever have presented itself to a bottom-dwelling and fairly shy creature just defied all logic. Besides, although the flashback didn't tell him much, he felt pretty certain he wouldn't have had the self-defense kick impulse if he'd been in the water. He'd been standing and he'd been dry.

No, his gut told him this had _not_ been any accident. Someone had used a dart or a hypodermic needle to shoot him full of something pretty strong, something that took effect immediately. He was actually relieved it hadn't been a hypospray. Beauregard had used the hypospray to the neck so much that he didn't even want Dr. Westphalen to use it on him again. He would leave Medbay when she gave other people their vaccines with that hissing monster. If he got out of this new predicament, he'd bring up his hypospray phobia with Wendy. Yeah, that ought to provide her some psychiatric fun. Loony Lucas and his hissing hysteria.

He jerked his chained wrist, twisting his hand as he tried to pull it through the far-too-narrow circumference. The chain links were quite solid and that shackle wasn't going to slip over his hand. He explored it with his fingers to get details his unfocused eyes weren't giving him. The keyhole wasn't old-fashioned, like the kind he could have picked with a hairpin (not that he had one anyway) but it wasn't digital combination either. No systematic number sequences he could busy himself trying. The triangular keyhole meant that it was the high security type of lock containing spring loaded pins that met with little spherical dips drilled into a prismatic shaft. Duplicates would not be made by the kind of key cutters you found on every street corner. This lock would not open without the key it had been designed to accept. Period.

So who in the world was making shackles for human wrists with such sophisticated security? Lucas didn't think he wanted to know. In fact, he didn't like where this line of reasoning was leading at all. There were far too many unregistered mining colonies that wouldn't hesitate to employ unscrupulous labor practices including what amounted to modern day slavery. The UEO had shut down four of those operations last year, but the report Lucas saw said that for every one they shut down, there were probably another ten undetected, or worse, known, but outside of UEO jurisdiction. Sovereign colonies could do whatever they wanted and not even the UEO could force them to abide by basic human rights. The UEO had to have major economic clout to even get its toe in the door to look around.

Did he leave any clues behind that Ben and Katie could follow? There was no toilet in this dark closet, which meant someone was probably going to unlock him so he could use a restroom. Assuming he was on a submarine or a surface vessel, there would be a radio of some kind that he could use to get _seaQuest_'s attention.

If Ben and Katie hadn't yet done it, eventually they'd be calling Captain Bridger. They probably would search on land first, but he knew his friends. Tim and Miguel would be looking for any clue he might send, even if they were in the wrong ocean and presumably way out of range. He could capture their attention through satellite bouncing or sonar relays easily enough, but both those methods were nearly impossible to backtrack. There would be no point to screaming for help if he couldn't tell them where to find him. And right now, he had no idea where he was or who had kidnapped him.

He wasn't sure how long he lay there, thinking and worrying, but at some point, he realized his eyes could focus again. It was still rather dim in the room, but now he saw a security camera near the ceiling, pointed down at him. He waved as if to tell his captor he was onto him. "Hey! I need to go to the bathroom!" he called while staring straight into the lens. Nothing happened. "Come on! I know you're watching me. You can't expect me to hold it forever. I gotta _go_!"

Then he heard movement from what seemed far off. A door opening and then footsteps in a long corridor outside the closet. The doorknob turned and he stood, backing himself against the wall. The door opened slowly and Lucas held his breath. He prepared himself for the worst: another Hans or Frans. But the first thing he saw were bony fingers curled around the door, grabbing it shakily before it swung slightly inward. A meek male voice came from behind the moving door. "I'm just the messenger, 'kay dude? I'm not gonna hurt you." He peeked out from behind the door: a skinny guy who couldn't have been much older than Lucas, maybe 20 or 21.

Lucas sighed with relief and Skinny Guy sighed with him. He stepped out from behind the door. Two things struck Lucas immediately: he wasn't just thin, he was gaunt, like seriously malnourished, and he wasn't wearing much, just a tattered, threadbare pair of shorts. And he reeked… badly. Lucas knew what it smelled like when someone hadn't bathed in weeks and this was more than that; this guy must have been working on the sewage system or something. But as shocked as he was at Skinny Guy, he had problems of his own right now.

"Where am I? Who put me here?" Lucas demanded, yanking his shackled arm for emphasis.

Skinny Guy cringed. No, strike that. He _cowered_. Like Lucas's words had physically hurt him. He hung his head when he spoke. "Sorry, dude. If I tell you, Mistress'll punish me. I just brought papers for you to sign." He crouched at the foot of the mattress and set down a stack of paper and a pen. "Listen, you gotta sign these. If you don't, they'll leave you in here with no toilet and no water or food. In about five days, you'll die of thirst and they'll throw your carcass out the hatch to feed the sharks and then I gotta clean up all the mess you leave. You're good-looking, dude." He winced and then hurriedly added, "I mean, you got what the women like. You got a lot better chance on the Colony than here, man. But you gotta sign to go to the Colony."

"What colony?" Lucas said in a whisper.

Skinny Guy flinched. "You heard that, right? He asked. I didn't bring it up." He looked up at the camera as if it would answer him, but no sound came.

"Never mind. Don't say anything that'll get you in trouble. Are you allowed to tell me your name?"

The guy looked him in the eye for the first time and Lucas could have sworn he was going to cry. His eyes were so haunted and hungry. He shook his head slowly, then muttered, "My name's Sh*t Boy."

Lucas pretended he didn't think it was so bad. "I'm Lucas. Lucas Wolenczak. We're gonna get out of here. Trust me."

Skinny Guy shrugged like he'd heard that line hundreds of times. "Just sign the papers, Lucas. And forget you ever met me."

* * *

sQ

* * *

_**Author's Note: At this point, I am moving this particular storyline to the "M" section. This is for language as well as adult situations, but NOT for sex. Lucas has been abducted into a Dominatrix colony where women rule. He will NOT be raped or beaten, but he will fear that happening. The important people in his life will of course go in after him, but they will have to go in undercover, which means a lot of embarrassing costumes and super-awkward situations. It's going to be weird. It's going to be wild. I hope it will be different and interesting. **_

_**The new thread will be called "**__**Gynocracy**__**". Again, I do NOT intend to have sex scenes, but I did want to give fair warning to anyone who might be weirded out or offended. "Not on My Watch" is going to lie dormant for a while as I play out this story in the other thread, but I will pick it up here after Lucas is rescued. I can't say how many chapters it will take (probably at least 10) or how long it will take me to write them. I make this stuff up as I go along, folks.**_


	41. Chapter 64 Back to seaQuest

**Chapter 64**

_Twenty-four hours?_ Nathan knew Hitchcock's sub was pretty comfortable, and he could understand them not being in a big hurry to get back, but this meant _seaQuest_ had to waste yet another day "looking" for the croc that surely had to be dead by now. Noyce had already given him the go-ahead to abandon the Deinosuchus patrol. If there was another one out there, they'd just have to hope it didn't kill too much before it was discovered. But he hadn't told anyone the assignment was over yet. They'd been very lucky no one had called for help while _seaQuest_ had been loitering around, waiting for Hitchcock, his two doctors, and most of his bridge officers to complete their mission.

He didn't have to ask why the delay through the vid-link. When he saw them all on the screen, he could see numerous bruises and cuts. Kristin being all formal and calling him captain meant she was exercising her role as Chief Medical Officer. They weren't cruising around on Hitchcock's luxury sub for a vacation. They _needed_ the time to recuperate.

He felt badly that so many had to be injured to get Lucas back, but they'd all volunteered, both for the mission and for the dangerous Gladiator Games. The injuries _looked_ bad, but Dr. Smith's earlier report through Agent Watkins said none of the crew was seriously hurt and Lucas wasn't hurt at all. Nathan was doubly grateful they had a full-time psychologist onboard. How had they ever got along without one?

He ordered a couple of emergency drills in their waiting time, just to relieve the boredom. The crew passed the first one, but it wasn't their usual efficiency and no one balked when he ordered a replay. His people were the best and they took a lot of pride in their emergency response times. Besides, what else was there to do in the same area of the south Atlantic they'd been circling for weeks? Once he had his people back, they'd be conducting shark research in the Indo-Pacific. So many species were close to extinction now because of the continued popularity of shark fin soup and the financial rewards that made restrictive laws useless against the hunting of the oceans' top predators.

And then there was a charity benefit in Pearl right after that. Of course, Nathan had opened his big fat mouth two years ago when all the Amazonian refugees had been given asylum in the UEO. "This wholesale slaughter of boys has got to stop," he'd yelled at then-Secretary General Noyce. Bill had agreed, but he'd been helpless to do anything then. Malique, the oldest young man they'd rescued, had started an organization to aid boys in the _favelas_ and to educate the rest of the population about the death squads. He was having some success, but he needed more funds.

The UEO was helping by putting on this fundraiser and its success depended on getting some famous people to make it high-profile in the media. After his "brilliant" defeat of the alien mothership (seen all over the world thanks to his hair-brained scheme to have Lucas send it out over the Internex) Nathan was about as high-profile as it got. While he despised these social hob-nobbing charity functions as a rule, he _did_ want to help. However, he didn't realize when he agreed to it exactly what he'd committed himself and his officers to. Bill informed him at the same time he'd ended Deinosuchus patrol.

The timing couldn't have been worse, but neither he nor the admiral could explain to the fundraising committee why this was such an uncomfortable request to make of _seaQuest_ officers right now. The mission to Juno was top secret and totally unsanctioned. The UEO didn't have any jurisdiction there. They couldn't send so much as an emissary, and no one would ever believe any of their male crew members had gone in there the way they did. Nathan kept debating himself back and forth whether to tell them the minute they got back so they could psyche themselves up for it or to wait until the end of the shark research, so Juno wouldn't be so fresh in their minds and it wouldn't seem such a ridiculous proposition.

Kristin's requested twenty-four hours slogged by slowly and he became more anxious to see both her and Lucas. Finally, they docked and Nathan personally attended to securing the docking collar and opening _seaQuest_'s hatch. They'd put Lucas in front, so he was the first thing Nathan saw when _Splendor_'s hatch slid away. He looked a little tired, but no worse for wear. He was probably traumatized, so Nathan resisted the impulse to just rush in on him and hug the living daylights out of him.

Lucas saw him and his eyes lit up. For a second, Nathan was sure he would rush into his arms, but Lucas twitched with a flash of recollection, straightened his posture and said, "Permission to—"

Nathan couldn't stand another silly show of protocol. He grabbed him by the shoulder before he could finish. "Oh get in here." His voice carried exasperation, but genuine fondness as he pulled him directly into an embrace despite his intentions to the contrary. Lucas hugged back with quite a squeeze himself.

"I missed you," he whispered just before he broke away.

"I missed you too, kiddo. And Darwin has been swimming in his worry pattern for days now."

"Darwin." He said the name like he'd forgotten who it was. "Can I go see him now? I mean, he's not out feeding or anything?"

"No, he knew you were coming home. He's waiting in the moon pool."

"And you don't need me for anything?"

"I need you, pal, but not at the moment. Scram." He shooed him off with a wave of his hand.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" Hitchcock stood in the doorway, one cheek bearing three strips of butterfly dressing, her nose black, blue, and a little crooked. She looked like she'd been in battle.

Nathan saluted her. "Granted, Commander. Welcome home."

Surprise flitted through her eyes, but she returned his salute even though out of uniform.

"You realize I'm going to count this as your reserve time," he said.

She stepped through the door, brows slanted in confusion. "But sir, this wasn't a military operation. The navy couldn't have any part in it."

He smirked. "Fine, I sent you on a super-secret mission to scrape barnacles off the hull of a battleship. By the time this gets declassified, I'll be dead and you'll either be retired or Fleet Admiral."

She smiled at his compliment, but it hurt her cheek. "I'm afraid I'm returning your crew in much worse shape than when you lent them to me."

"They volunteered," he said simply.

She sighed and nodded.

"You brought everyone back alive and ambulatory, _and_ you kept your promise. This is as successful as it gets." He placed his hand on her shoulder. She said thanks with her eyes and a nod. If it wasn't for the fact that she was building his dream for the future, he would have begged her right there to come back to _seaQuest_.

The others filtered out, and she was right, all the officers looked terrible. Brody had a black eye the size of Texas. O'Neill had more blue and purple skin than white left on his face. Krieg didn't look bad, but he was walking a little differently. Nathan knew he had wounds; they just weren't as visible as the others'.

Piccolo was his normal, irreverent self, and he was the only one still wearing any vestige of the costumes they'd all had on. He had on a psychedelic shirt so his chest wasn't bare and jeans instead of the leather Speedo, but he still wore the black and purple vest jacket. He was chatting with a young man until he felt the captain's eye on him. "Cap, this is Kyle."

After what he'd been through, it was no wonder the stranger was a little shy, but this was quite a bit more than that. Skinny, gaunt, and with a haunted look in his eyes, he appeared much younger than his reported age of 20. Nathan knew he'd made the right decision to bunk him in with Lucas, even though it gave Piccolo a private room in guest quarters. The captain smiled and extended his hand. "Welcome to _seaQuest_, Kyle."

Though clearly uncomfortable, the young man took his hand and shook. "Thank you."

"Piccolo can show you where you'll be staying. Lucas is at the moon pool."

Piccolo nodded. "I got it, Cap."

Next to debark was a huge man walking with Dr. Smith. She said, "Captain Nathan Bridger, this is Matthew Lang."

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Lang." They shook hands. He was as big as Dagwood, but he, too, was cut, bruised, and had a swollen nose. Then Nathan remembered just who Matthew had fought. He was the one Mary said her fiancé had knocked out, and who had therefore been "won" by Kristin. Seeing his size now, Nathan really wished he had video of that knockout because it looked physically impossible for someone of O'Neill's size. He turned to check out Tim again. The communications officer gave him a lopsided smile and a nod as if reading the question on his mind. He returned it with a nod and a smile of approval.

Kristin's cranky, impatient voice emerged from behind Wendy and Matthew. "You can charm the visitors later, Nathan. I need to get to Medbay and talk to Levin."

"Sorry, Captain," Wendy said as she moved Matthew quickly out of the hatchway. Kristin came into view. He still wasn't used to her short hair, but her smile was radiant and beautiful as ever. She didn't even look tired.

"Welcome back, Doctor," he said, extending his hand to her.

"Don't you 'Doctor' me, Captain. I've been to hell and back and you'd better kiss me."

She didn't often demand any display of affection in a public area of _seaQuest_. In fact, she was probably more discreet than he was with the hand-holding and the use of first names. He grinned and indulged her request.

Last to come aboard was Ford. His bruises didn't show as badly as the others on his dark skin, but a close look revealed he'd taken a beating too. "All present and accounted for, Captain," he reported formally.

"Thank you, Commander. Good work."

Ford nodded. He was wearing normal civvies, but his formality betrayed his eagerness to get back to work.

"Are you fit for duty?" he asked loudly enough that both doctors could overrule him if he tried to fudge it.

He straightened. "Yes, sir."

Kristin nodded in silent assent.

"Good, then I have something for you." He removed a chain from his pocket and handed it to his executive officer. It was DNA encoded so no one else could use it but Ford unless the computer knew he was dead or legitimately absent from _seaQuest_. The commander slipped his nuclear arming key around his neck and tucked it under his shirt.

Nathan turned to Kristin. "How many need to be in Medbay?"

She shook her head. "None. I trust they'll all come back tomorrow for their checkups, but they're good for now."

He nodded and turned back to Ford. "Then I need you all at fourteen hundred in the ward room."

"Fourteen hundred, aye." He glanced down at his watch. "Do you need anything from me before then?"

"There will be no _official_ reports on your mission, but I would like a report for the _unofficial_ file. No hurry on that. You're dismissed until fourteen hundred."

"Thank you, sir." He shot off toward his quarters, no doubt to change into uniform.

"Everyone hear that?" Nathan said to the rest of the crew who were standing around, saying goodbye to Hitchcock, Krieg, and Helga (_when did she get here?_). "Meeting at fourteen hundred in the ward room."

A chorus of nods and yes sirs met his reminder. He wasn't worried any of them would miss it. The only other person who needed to know was Ortiz. And it was a pretty good bet who would be seeing him first. Nathan caught O'Neill by the shoulder, leaned in, and spoke quietly. "Please inform Mr. Ortiz that he is to be present at the meeting as well."

"Aye, sir."

The crew dispersed with Wendy taking Matthew toward the guest quarters. Kristin stayed behind with Krieg, Hitchcock, and Helga.

"Do you mind keeping Ben company on the sub?" he overheard Katie asking Helga. "I could take you home on the jet-copter once we get to Cape Town, but that would mean Ben has to drive all the way to Hawaii by himself."

Nathan cleared his throat. "So you've decided to keep the LS909?"

She grinned and nodded. "Thanks to Dr. Westphalen's shrewd bets, I can afford it, so why not?"

Nathan knew Hitchcock could afford it no matter what, but it was nice to give Kristin credit. "We're going to be in Pearl Harbor in another two weeks. _Splendor_ can hitch a ride with _seaQuest_ and you can all fly back and wait for her there."

"She'll wreak havoc with your hydrodynamics," Hitchcock said.

"We don't need speed to study sharks. Come on, it's the least I can do. I can get you to Cape Town in three hours." _Splendor_'s top speed would take her at least eight. They could all be halfway to New York by then.

Krieg gave her that pleading look of his. "I can get a lot more work done back home, Katie."

Hitchcock turned to Nathan. "Accepted. Thanks, Captain."

"Lieutenant Jarvis won't get a thing done without you kicking his butt." He delivered the joke deadpan and then winked. Everyone laughed.

"So where do you want us to hang for three hours?"

"If you want to see me break bad news, come to the staff meeting at fourteen hundred. Otherwise, make yourself at home. Crew lounge is always empty this time of day. My guest quarters are full up, but _Splendor_'s not going anywhere, so you still have your staterooms if you're tired."

"What bad news?" Kristin asked.

He smirked. "What are _you_ still doing here? I thought you needed to get to Levin."

She rolled her cute brown eyes at him. "Another military secret, I presume."

"Not exactly. You should come too, so you can tell Cynthia we're doing something for her cause and not just fawning over clams and sponges."

Her eyes lit up. "For Cynthia?"

He shrugged. "Well, for Malique, but in a roundabout way. I really don't want to get into it now. Come to the meeting if you want to know."

She glanced at her watch. "I'll be there."


	42. Chapter 65 Moving On

**Chapter 65**

Tim hurried to his quarters and changed into his uniform. It didn't do anything for his bashed-up face, but it did quite a lot for his mood. He'd felt better once they were clear of Juno, with his papers shredded and wearing his regular civvies, but it wasn't like being _home_. He was scheduled for duty at 1500, but there was no telling how long the meeting might last. He always tried to be in uniform for meetings anyway. He would have felt worse about his face except that all the other officers looked just as bad and he had one thing they didn't: _his_ Gladiator opponent was walking around on _seaQuest_ for everyone to see.

Actually, both of them were. He wasn't going to mention it, but a good number of Tim's bruises had come from Commander Ford. He'd held his own with one of the best athletes aboard _seaQuest _and he was downright proud of it. Ford had _ordered_ Tim to do his best, so it was unlikely the commander had been going easy on him. Of course, the commander would have won had they been allowed to keep fighting, but neither one of them really needed any more wounds than they already had. Tim hadn't been sorry that Dr. Westphalen had ended the fight for them.

He made a quick trip to the bridge to inform Miguel about the meeting. Henderson had his regular seat in Communications. She took one look at him and gasped. "Tim! What happened to your face?"

He grinned. "It's nothing. You should see the guy I knocked out."

Miguel smirked as he walked over. "Yeah, I bet," he said sarcastically.

Tim just shrugged. All the better that no one would believe it. He didn't need to brag. They'd all meet Matthew sooner or later and the truth would come out. Maybe Shan would brag for him. After all, it was his martial arts instruction that made all the difference. Six months ago, Tim would have just been a punching bag, probably not even any good at tiring his opponent out before having to have the towel thrown in. He wasn't even sure he would have had enough self-confidence to try back then. He'd have just sat on the sidelines like Piccolo and Krieg.

"Good to have you back, man," Miguel said, patting him on the back.

"Thanks. Captain Bridger wants you in the ward room at fourteen hundred."

Miguel checked his watch. "That's twenty minutes. Do you know what it's about?"

Another shrug. "You got me."

"You want your seat?" Henderson said, starting to get up.

He held up his hands. "No, thanks. I'm not on duty yet." Still, he was there and he'd missed his station in a geeky kind of way. The only reason he hadn't gone totally batty on a colony where he couldn't touch electronics was because he could Transmit messages without any equipment at all. The problem with that was the only Receivers he knew were both women. It couldn't be healthy to be limited to talking only through one's psychologist or one's fiancée. His curiosity got the best of him. "Any problems while I was gone?"

Henderson shook her head. "An Argentinean trawler called with a sighting and no one spoke English, but Ortiz got us through." Tim wondered for half a second whether there was any significance to her using Miguel's last name instead of the familiar. _Were they still together?_

Miguel cut in, shaking his head. "Turned out to be nothing. Pilot whales."

"How can you mistake a pilot whale for a giant crocodile?"

The sensor chief shrugged. "Too much tequila? I dunno. They didn't have any sonar imaging systems and the sighting was at night. At least it got us excited for a day and a half."

"I guess. Hey, see you at the meeting." Tim nodded goodbye to Miguel and Lonnie. If he hurried, he'd have time to see Darwin.

He walked briskly to the moon pool. Lucas was there along with Tony and Kyle. "Tim play with Darwin?" the vocorder voice said.

"Hey, Darwin. Can't play right now. Just came to say hi."

"Tim have mud on face?"

He reached up reflexively, then it dawned on him he hadn't been near any mud. "Oh no. That's a bruise."

"Bruise is like makeup?"

"Makeup?" Tony asked. "Who's been teachin' ya about makeup? That's for dames, buddy. Tim's a guy. Well, mostly."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Tony." He looked down at the dolphin. "This is what happens when a human gets hurt, Darwin. It's like a cut but without breaking the skin."

"Tim hurt?"

"Yeah, but I'll be okay. How are you?"

"Darwin miss friends."

He probably missed Lucas the most, but Tim liked to think he was Darwin's friend, too.

"We missed you too," Lucas said.

"Lucas swim?"

"Sounds great. Kyle, you want to come?"

The skinny kid looked skeptical or maybe it was fearful. "Uh, are you sure he likes me?"

Lucas laughed. "He likes anyone who will play with him. How 'bout you, Tony?"

"You don't have to go to the meeting?" Tim asked. It came out more accusatory than he'd meant it. Piccolo didn't report to him. He was just trying to keep him out of trouble.

"Nobody told me about a meetin'," Tony said.

Tim shrugged. Captain Bridger had specifically asked him to tell Miguel and no one else. So either Tony didn't need to be at this meeting or the captain thought he was still present near the docking bay when he announced it. But Bridger was not one to make assumptions. At least Tim knew where Tony was if he needed to be fetched.

"Well, _I_ have to go to it. Probably another boring strategy meeting on how to find crocs that don't exist."

"Lucky you," Lucas said.

_Yeah, right_. Tim tried not to let his lack of enthusiasm cloud his face. Even dull meetings on _seaQuest_ were better than working at a lithium mine in a toga. He rubbed Darwin's melon, rolled his sleeves back down, and hurried out. His analytical mind got the best of him as he made his way to the mag-lev. If the meeting was really about crocodiles, then science personnel like Lucas would have been required to come. If it was any kind of debriefing, then Tony would need to be there and not Miguel. So what was going on?

He was there five minutes early. Captain Bridger, Commander Ford, Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock, Lieutenant Brody, Ensign Shan, Dr. Westphalen, Ben Krieg were already there. Chief Ortiz came in right behind him. The captain motioned them all to sit. Hitchcock, Westphalen, and Krieg sat off to the side while everyone in uniform sat around a conference table. The captain cleared his throat.

"It is my great pleasure to announce that we've finally been given permission to abandon the search for Deinosuchi. As soon as we drop off our passengers in Cape Town…" He nodded at Krieg and Hitchcock. "…I'm ordering _seaQuest_ to set course to the Indo-Pacific. Dr. Kaverstein is way overdue for his shark research."

Several people breathed sighs of relief. Dr. Westphalen muttered, "About time," under her breath.

"I think we're all anxious to move on. We'll be studying sharks and we'll make a short stop at the Undersea Supply Depot near the Marshall Islands, then we'll be heading to Pearl."

Everyone listened intently, faces brightening with the prospect of new adventures and new scenery.

The captain continued, "I've already offered to keep _Splendor of the Sea_ docked with us and give her a lift to Pearl, since Hitchcock has to fly her jet-copter home. There will be shore leave when we're there, but for some of us, it's going to come with a bit of obligation."

He paused. Tim couldn't decide if he was reluctant to say whatever needed to be said or just choosing his words carefully. Bridger was the most confident leader he knew; for something to give him pause, there had to be a reason. Whatever this obligation was, it wasn't going to be fun.

"Some of you will recall our first tour run-in with the Amazonian Confederation. We fired on a Romeo-class sub full of young boys after we were told it was emerald smugglers."

"And they almost sunk our rescue shuttle trying to hide the secret," Dr. Westphalen grumbled.

Tim remembered now. The doctor's daughter had been on that shuttle when it was hit, and she had been seriously hurt. Shan and Ford had to make an emergency landing in Amazonian territory until _seaQuest_ could find them.

"Yes, they did," the captain conceded. "But we managed to rescue nearly forty young boys in the end. They were given asylum in the United States, complete with education. The oldest young man, Malique, has used his education to start a foundation to save more boys from the death squads."

"My daughter, Cynthia, works with Malique," Dr. Westphalen said.

Bridger nodded. "Malique has petitioned the UEO for more funds to help his foundation and the _brilliant_ powers-that-be in Washington came up with this charity function to raise money for his foundation."

There was something about the way he said 'brilliant' that reeked of sarcasm. Tim was already starting to feel a knot in his stomach. Charity fundraisers were for philanthropists and politicians, not average working people like the military. They were probably going to hold trays of drinks and hors d'œuvres at some snobbish banquet. Not the most exciting way to spend an evening, but he could do it to help save boys from being murdered.

Bridger laced his fingers together and flexed his hands, then set them back down. _Was he actually fidgeting?_

"You've got to understand," he said apologetically, "that this was planned months ago and the mission you just returned from is a secret. No one has any idea how offensive this request is going to be. But I promised my support to the admiral and therefore, we are going to do what needs to be done."

"Good heavens, Nathan, don't tell me it's a charity boxing match."

"Not exactly."

Tim couldn't remember the captain ever looking quite so uncomfortable and now the suspense was really starting to worry him.

"You know we're behind you, sir," Commander Ford said.

They all nodded.

Bridger stared at Ford, studying him for several long seconds before drawing a deep breath. "It's a bachelor auction."

Reactions came all at once from different parts of the room:

"A _what_?"

"No way."

"You can't be serious," Dr. Westphalen said.

He sighed and shook his head. "I wish I wasn't." He looked at Brody. "Lieutenant, you're married, so you're exempt from the auction, but you're expected to attend the event and show support. Everyone else is strongly encouraged to participate."

'Strongly encouraged' in military-speak was only a hair's breadth away from an actual order.

"Captain, I'm engaged," Tim squeaked out.

"And your fiancée already gave her permission. Sorry, Tim, but she sensed I was concerned about this and, well, she's extremely easy to talk to. I told her what it was and she said she doesn't mind."

Surprise mingled with betrayal. _Mary!_ he mind-screamed.

Her reply was too quick and too timid not to have been anticipated. _Yes, Tim?_

He toned down his anger a few notches to try to talk sense into her. _How __**could**__ you? You would have been the perfect excuse!_

_How could I __**what**__? How could I share the most wonderful man in the world for one silly date that may save hundreds of lives? Because I __**trust**__ him, that's how._

She touched him a little with her compliment, but he was still furious._ Hundreds of lives, my butt. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is going to be? I'll stand there like a piece of rotting meat no one wants until some old lady bids twenty bucks just to clear the stage for the real hunks._

_Rotting meat? Damn it, Tim, will you wake up! You're so attractive it's painful._

_Maybe to you and maybe not in comparison to others, but I've got to do this with Shan and Ortiz and Ford. _He was grateful Lucas wasn't in on this. How much more humiliating would it be to be shown up by the barely-legal teenager_?_

_What do you mean, __**to me**__? Have you already forgotten Miguel's cousins?_

He had indeed forgotten, but he didn't want to bring them into this. They were an anomaly, stuck on an isolated island with few prospects and he was an outsider who seemed exotic. There weren't going to be any sheltered girl-next-door types at this thing.

Tim had shut his mouth and ignored the meeting while arguing with his fiancée telepathically and so far, it had only been a few seconds he'd tuned out, but then he heard Dr. Westphalen say, "Well, if she can give up Tim, then I can give up _you_."

"Now wait a minute," Bridger said, pointing his index at his wife.

The good doctor folded her arms over her chest. "_You_ wait a minute, Nathan. Surely you're not going to ask any of your officers to do anything you wouldn't be willing to do."

"Kristin, I'm not an eligible bachelor. I excluded Brody for the same reason."

She wasn't giving up. "Tim's not 'eligible'; he's engaged. All you needed was his fiancée's permission, and it was all right, hmm? Well, you have your _wife's_ permission. Deal with it."

"Is it strictly military?" Hitchcock asked.

The captain looked very thankful for her interruption. "Not at all. We were asked because _seaQuest_ was so recently in the news and someone decided we're celebrities."

"Good, then add Ben to your list."

"Katie!" Krieg protested. "Why don't you just make a donation?"

She smirked. "And then how would _you_ contribute anything? Come on, Ben. They're doing this in our back yard. It's not like the highest bidder would _own_ you or anything. It's for charity, for little boys who would be killed just for being boys."

"You know you _could_ be outbid," Krieg said grumpily, but the implication was that he expected her to try.

Hitchcock grinned one of her evil Katerina grins. "Well, what fun would it be if it was a sure thing?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Do you want to remain my employee?"

Krieg turned to the captain. "Count me in."

Bridger nodded. "Thank you. Your attire is up to you, Lieutenant, but this is a black tie event. Everyone else in dress whites. That's the only reason I told you now instead of two weeks from now. So you—excuse me, so _we'll_ all have time to get uniforms cleaned and ready. Any questions?"

Heads shook in silence.

"Then you're dismissed."

Shan, Ford, Ortiz, and Brody left the table. Tim just sat stunned.

_Are you still mad at me?_ Mary asked softly.

_I don't know yet._ His anger hadn't abated that much, but it made him ashamed. Little boys in the Amazon were dying and if a few minutes of humiliation would stop even one death, then he should be happy to do it. The captain was going to do it and he was old and married.

_I should have asked you first. I'm sorry._

_Apology accepted. I'll talk to you later._ Hopefully, after he had a chance to sort out his feelings.

"So why isn't Piccolo here?" Dr. Westphalen asked.

The captain shrugged. "They didn't want every man on the boat, just the cream of the crop."

"I would never second-guess you, sir," Hitchcock said, "but as a woman, I'd say Piccolo is just as attractive as Ortiz. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but I'd bid on him."

"Wait a minute. You're bidding on _me_," Krieg insisted.

"No law says I can't bid on both of you."

"Juno changed you, Katie," he said. She gave him a glare and he raised his hands in surrender. "Just sayin'."

"Speaking of Juno," Dr. Westphalen interrupted diplomatically, "doesn't someone owe me a foot massage?" She fixed her gaze on Krieg.

Tim suspected the doctor was setting him up to be left alone with the captain and he wasn't up to it right now. He checked his watch, mumbled something about needing to get to the bridge, and excused himself from the room, paying polite nods to those still present.


	43. Chapter 66 We Watch Out for Our Own

**Chapter 66**

Wendy had just left Matthew in the guest quarters and was going to look for Kyle when Mary's voice entered her mind.

_I messed up bad, Wendy_, her friend said sadly. Wendy felt rather than heard the weight of her sadness, since crying didn't affect a mindvoice like it did the physical voice.

_What happened?_

_The last time I spoke to Captain Bridger, he was concerned about something. I could tell it was new, and not about Juno, so I asked him what was wrong. I didn't scan him; I asked. I thought we had a good rapport. He's the only man I've felt comfortable talking to besides Tim. Anyway, he told me that his superiors expect all the __**seaQuest**__ officers to participate in a bachelor auction for charity. It's going to be in Pearl Harbor in a couple of weeks. He was all worried that everyone would object because of Juno and I told him I was sure Tim would still do it. He was surprised __**I**__ didn't mind. But it's for little boys facing death squads in the Amazonian Confederation. How could I object to that? _She paused a second and then continued. _Well, I was wrong. Tim is furious that I didn't object so he'd have an excuse not to do it._

_Furious? Tim?_

_I thought __**I**__ was the one making a sacrifice, to let him go out with some rich, beautiful woman, but he thinks I threw him to the wolves or something. Wendy, he's so mad, he doesn't even want to talk to me._ She forced her pain behind a mental block, making herself unreadable like she used to before the plane crash.

_I know you're upset, Mary. Why are you trying to hide it?_

_If I was hiding it, would we be having this conversation?_

_You know what I mean. You're blocking your emotions from me in a mindlink. _She'd been opening up ever since meeting Tim in person, sharing her happiness, but also facing the painful past. Wendy had hopes she might even be coaxed out of her hermitage. But maybe this wasn't the best time to push her. Wendy had enough counseling to do with two mentally abused guests aboard right now. _Do you want me to talk to Captain Bridger? He'd never allow this if he knew it would hurt your relationship._

_No, please don't. I have a feeling it would make everything worse. If Tim wants me to, __**I**__'ll talk to him._

Wendy was encouraged that Mary would speak to him herself. Rumor had it that she'd even turned on the vid-link camera for the captain._ Speaking of talking to him…when did he start calling you 'Special Agent Watkins'?_

Mary giggled._ I wouldn't call him 'Nathan' because Tim doesn't use his first name. So he wouldn't call me Mary. I suggested 'Miss Watkins' but he keeps talking about recruiting me to the CIA or Sector Seven or something. It's kind of an inside joke._

_Nathan doesn't joke about things like that. He's serious, Mary._

_I know. He felt very genuine._

_He is. He feels guilty for exploiting your talents without you getting anything back._

_Getting anything back? I got to talk to Tim all the time and I got to help. I love it when he calls me the secret weapon or 'Special Agent'. _

Wendy chuckled._ That's probably why he does it then. He has a high psi factor, but no training. He reads people all the time without realizing it._

_Well, I hope he knows I'd always be happy to help if I can._

Wendy put on her lecture voice._ You know, Tim volunteered your help for the Juno mission before he consulted you._

_Like I would have refused!_

_That's kind of my point, Mary. People who are close make assumptions all the time. You shouldn't feel badly that you misjudged Tim's wishes for the charity event._

_I guess I just don't understand. He's convinced no one will bid. But who wouldn't want a gorgeous guy like him?_

Wendy cringed, but she had to say it._ Not that looks are that important in the grand scheme of things, but come on, Mary, you only think Tim is gorgeous because you saw his mind first. These women will have nothing to go on but looks._

Mary was completely stunned and she didn't bother to hide it_. You don't think he's cute?_

_Um, no, not really._

She really couldn't fathom Wendy not agreeing with her and it took her a second to get over the shock._ Wait. What about Miguel's cousins? They were all over him when he was in Cuba._

_Maybe they were just being nice. You know, Latino people are very hospitable._

_Or maybe __**you**__ just don't know cute when you see it._

_Maybe. But __**my**__ taste hardly matters. __**I**__'m not going to be bidding._

Wendy reached Medbay and heard Kristin and Katie talking. Maybe she could gather some information about this auction. _I'll call you later, okay?_

_Okay, thanks, Wendy. _She sounded a lot better than when she first linked.

Wendy walked through the hatch. "So what do the guys _really_ think about this auction?"

"How did you know?" Kristin asked. Katie looked very interested too. The meeting had only ended a few minutes ago. Scuttlebutt was fast, but not usually _that_ fast.

Wendy smirked. "Distraught fiancée."

"Mary? Nathan said she didn't mind!"

Wendy waved her hands in a negating fashion. She didn't want them to get the wrong idea. "She didn't. But evidently Tim wasn't too happy that she didn't give him a way out and now he's giving her the silent treatment."

"Well, we can fix this right now," Kristin said, her finger poised over the intercom button.

Wendy gently moved her hand away. "Tim would just be more mad if we meddled. If he doesn't get over this in a day or two, Mary said she would talk to the captain herself."

"She's right," Katie said. "Tim has to go through with it now or it looks like he's hiding behind his fiancée and letting her 'wear the pants'. So why doesn't he want to do it? Ben whines like a baby, but I know he's secretly looking forward to it."

"But isn't Ben pretty sure that you're going to win?" Wendy asked. "Would you let someone else outbid you?" She remembered how panicked Katie was when Juno's sheriff was talking about chopping off Ben's hand. They'd shared a stateroom on _Splendor_, so they were obviously more than just employer-employee.

"Depends what she looks like. Some rich old widow wants him, I'll let him go. Some beautiful blonde model type? Fat chance."

"Nathan's probably going to get the rich old widow," Kristin said with a coy smile.

"Wait," Wendy said. "I thought this was a bachelor auction. Nathan's married."

"Yes, well, he made the mistake of inviting me to the meeting and telling everyone how Mary so kindly gave permission for Tim. I told him if Mary could give permission for her fiancé, then I could give permission for my husband."

Wendy chuckled at Kristin's revelation and then directed her gaze back to Katie to answer the question that had started the tangent. "Tim has always had some self-esteem issues, especially when it comes to women. He's afraid no one will bid."

Katie gave a knowing nod. "I still can't believe he's engaged. Listen, there is no way I'd let any guy from _seaQuest_ stand up there and be humiliated. If no one else will bid, I will."

"Are you Commander Hitchcock?" The voice came from the doorway and they all turned to see Lonnie. With the hatch wide open, it was probably a safe bet she overheard them on her way in.

Katie stepped forward. "Yes I am. And you are?"

"Seaman Lonnie Henderson. Both the captain and Chief Kendall speak very highly of you, ma'am."

"What can I do for you, Henderson?"

"I'm sorry I overheard, but did you say you'd bid on any _seaQuest_ guy?" Her voice turned sourly sarcastic. "What about if he's getting plenty of bids from gorgeous women?" She'd obviously heard about the auction and wasn't very happy about it.

Wendy didn't have to scan her to guess why. She spoke as kindly as she could. "You know Miguel didn't have a choice about doing this, right?"

Before Lonnie could answer, Kristin cut in. "Are you two a couple?"

Lonnie sighed and shoved her hands in her pockets. "No, not exactly. We're kind of close and we've dated a couple of times, but he wants to keep his options open."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Men and their commitment issues."

Lonnie shrugged. "It's not so bad when he picks up a girl on shore leave where he'll probably never set foot again. But I lost it when he was fawning all over that folk singer who came aboard last year. I know I'm just being jealous and oversensitive. I actually came down here looking for Dr. Smith so she could talk some sense into me."

Wendy nodded at her. She'd been making progress in her psych sessions and it was a good sign that she was trying to prevent a problem before it got out of hand.

Katie crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Lonnie. "So what if I could arrange for you to win Miguel yourself?"

"Me? On enlisted pay?" She paused a second, considering. "What do I have to do?"

Katie chuckled. "See this black eye?"

Lonnie nodded.

"I got this fighting some chick who wanted to kill me on a crazy colony where women enslave the men."

"You went to Juno Colony, didn't you?"

"Uh, you didn't hear that from me, sailor."

"You never said a word. I pieced it together from the coordinates where you called us yesterday."

"You're much too smart to be a seaman. We'll need to see about getting you promoted. But back to my point. This fight was held in an arena, and the entire colony bet on it like a big Vegas boxing match. And Dr. Westphalen bet the farm. On me. She won, big time."

Wendy saw Kristin open her mouth to explain, but Katie deflected it with a look and Kristin heeded it, clapping her mouth shut before the word was formed. It was hard to believe that these two women had spent more than a year away from _seaQuest_, the way they read each other's subtle eye movements and body language.

"The way I figure it, a good portion of that money, if not all of it, should go to help males in need, just because that would best spite the women who lost it. You getting my drift here? The charity that auction is supporting is all about rescuing little boys from being murdered."

Kristin coughed. "As Ben so indelicately pointed out, you _could_ just write a check, Katie."

Katie arched a brow and shrugged. "Sure I could. But this is a lot more fun." She glanced at the open door. "Medbay is not a good place to have this discussion. Ben is in the crew lounge, so why don't we all go back to _Splendor_, call Mary up on the vid-link, and flex our feminine wiles and plot some plans. We'll let the men sweat it out until the auction, but in the end, no submariner I know is going to be humiliated or dishonored or loaned out to some rich bitch while a hardworking girl who really cares has to go punch a pillow." She eyed Lonnie as she said the last part. The seaman smiled and her eyes sparked to life again.

"I don't have any designs on any submariners," Wendy said. Truth was, she didn't really have any designs on anyone.

"But you care about this crew," Kristin pointed out. "And we need you to get Mary in on this with us."

"Who is Mary?" Lonnie asked.

"Tim's fiancée," Wendy said.

"Tim _O'Neill_? He's engaged? You're kidding."

"Nope. But it's probably because of reactions like that, that he hasn't told very many people." Wendy's retort was only mildly scolding. The one date that Tim and Lonnie shared was pretty well-known by everyone who'd been on the last tour, and still quite a source of embarrassment for both of them. But while Tim was doing everything in his power to get the rumors quashed, Lonnie seemed to revel in spreading the story even after he'd apologized.

"We may need you as a bidding shill," Katie added.

Wendy chuckled. "As long as it doesn't get me fired."

"You know, we really need to get Joshua up on that stage too," Kristin said as they all headed down the corridor.

"Well, maybe I _would_ have designs if Joshua was up there," Wendy joked. She wasn't really that close to Levin, but she found him attractive and more interesting than any of the other possible candidates.

As expected, this drew several ooo's and ahhh's, along with girly giggles.

"He's not in the Navy," Lonnie said. "He can't be ordered."

"Ben isn't either, at the moment," Katie said. "But that doesn't mean we don't have plenty of other means at our disposal."

The four of them ducked inside _Splendor_ and Katie closed the hatch that separated it from _seaQuest_. Of course, the collar clamps were still locked and the _seaQuest_ side of the hatch was still open, but they'd have warning if anyone else tried to come in.

Somewhere off in the recess of her mind, Wendy was certain she could hear her mother's old Helen Reddy CD playing, "I Am Woman".


	44. Chapter 67 The More, the Merrier

**Chapter 67**

Nathan didn't like the bachelor auction on principle. Why was it socially acceptable to put men up for public sale to the highest bidder? Were anyone to suggest women be auctioned off, even for the sake of charity, even just for a harmless date, it would be condemned in the harshest terms. And how ironic was it that selling men in Pearl Harbor was going to save little boys in the Amazonian Confederation whose lives had been counted worthless by their own countrymen? Surely Malique would never have fathomed such a solution.

Yet here they were. Nathan was about as far as one could be from "hot eligible bachelor", yet somehow, he was going to have to go through with this too. Kristin was, of course, disturbingly correct in requiring him to lead by example. However, the execution of her logic had not sat well with him, perhaps because she had indeed been so flawlessly logical. He never should have approved Tim being included, even with his fiancée's blessing. She had something in mind he couldn't mention because it would ruin her planned surprise, but that didn't really change what it looked like from the outside, and that had been Nathan's downfall.

The dress whites that had been so comfortable on his wedding day would now have to be trotted out again, and no doubt they would feel stiff and confining on this occasion. Still, it could have been worse. With any luck, he wouldn't have to eat at some swanky, salads-only restaurant and attempt intelligent debate with some female senator who had less common sense than a herring. Malique's foundation got the money no matter how badly the date went, so it didn't really matter whether he had a good time or not.

Whether he was keen to spread the misery or whether he saw wisdom in inflating the number of participants, he wasn't sure, but Petty Officer Piccolo was doomed the moment Hitchcock gave him her vote of confidence. Any male that had passed _her_ muster was definitely worth auctioning off. Nathan waited until Piccolo was on duty and then summoned him into the Ward Room without any explanation. It was cruel, he knew, but Tony was the most entertaining crewman to watch when he was nervous.

"Petty Officer Piccolo reporting as ordered, sir!" he said with a sharp salute and rigid attention.

Nathan returned the salute without any facial expression. "At ease, Piccolo. Would you care to explain yourself?" He watched his face. The usual panic was absent, replaced by confusion.

"Have I done something wrong?"

He waited a beat, and then said, "I'd think we'd all like to know just how in the world you managed to impress one of the toughest officers in the Navy."

Still a blank look. "Wait a second. I _told_ Commander Ford that Ortiz showed me how to do the sensor calibrations."

Nathan arched a brow. Piccolo didn't need to know how to do that, so either Ortiz was getting pushy, which was highly doubtful, or Piccolo had _asked_ to be taught, which was highly commendable. "I didn't say _the_ toughest, just _one of_ the toughest. It's Commander Hitchcock who has recommended you for an assignment in Pearl Harbor in two weeks."

"Me? Assignment?"

"Yes, and I've agreed to give it to you."

"What do I gotta do?"

"You have to endure a date with the highest bidder at a charity auction. You think you can handle that, sailor?"

He grinned. "A date with a rich chick? Hey, no prob, Cap."

"You'll have to wear dress whites and use your best on-duty manners even though it will officially be leave time."

He nodded, looking rather happy about the whole thing. "Commander Hitchcock really recommended me?"

Nathan cracked a hint of a smile. "Yes, she did. Other than Ortiz, all the other bach—all the other _participants_ will be officers. I hope you know she doesn't recommend NCOs for functions like this lightly. Whatever you're doing, Piccolo, keep it up." He patted Tony lightly on the shoulder.

He smiled. "Aye, sir."

"You're dismissed."

He turned to go, hesitated, and then turned back. "Just making sure: this isn't top secret or nothin', right? I'm allowed to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "The auction's not a secret at all. But it might be a good idea not to brag too much about Hitchcock's recommendation. Bragging does _not_ sit well with her."

He held up both hands. "No bragging about Hitchcock, aye, sir."

His reaction verified he had a good healthy respect for her, which was, of course, Nathan's intention. Piccolo shot out the hatch without needing another dismissal.

Was it just because he was so much older that he couldn't have the same happy, carefree excitement about this that Piccolo had? Maybe he should at least pretend to be looking forward to it, if for no other reason but to irritate Kristin for pawning him off like she did. The _nerve_ of that woman. She and her fellow Juno cohorts had somehow recruited Henderson into their Secret Estrogen Society and spent the entire trip to Cape Town on Hitchcock's sub, _with the hatch locked_, no doubt plotting something heinous for their stay in Pearl. When Nathan had asked Kristin (with great sensitivity and careful word choice) what they'd been doing, he'd basically been told it was none of his business.

The intercom beeped. "Lauch Bay to Captain."

"Bridger here."

"Shuttle Launch _MR-6_ has returned. Launch Bay is secure."

"Thank you. Bridger out."

Henderson had volunteered to pilot the shuttle to Cape Town to drop off Hitchcock, Krieg, and Helga (he never got around to asking her surname) and that was the signal that she'd finished her task. Nathan left the Ward Room and headed to the bridge. He was looking forward to being the one to announce the end of the croc patrol.

"Captain on the bridge," Ford's voice announced. Man, it was good to have him back.

"As you were," Nathan said quickly as he made his way to his station. He stood behind his chair with Ford at his side. "Attention, everyone. We've been given permission to abandon the search for the last Deinosuchus."

He paused while everyone cheered. It had been tedious duty with depressing outcomes and they deserved a moment of jubilation. He cleared his throat and waited for them to settle down, which they did very quickly. "Barring any unforeseen circumstances, we'll be spending several weeks studying endangered sharks and then we head to the Marshall Undersea Supply Depot for a day, and then to Pearl Harbor where everyone will be granted shore leave."

The cheers for shore leave in Hawaii were even louder and more enthusiastic than the ones for leaving the crocodile search, which would have been difficult to believe only seconds earlier. "Set course for the Indo-Pacific, all engines half speed."

"All engines half speed, aye," Ensign Shan echoed.

The captain took his seat and surveyed the happy faces around him, everyone busy with their jobs. One face he hadn't expected was Lucas's, but the teen was in his science department uniform and intent on his computer screen.

"Mr. Wolenczak, how is your guest doing?"

The teen nodded. "He's doing okay. Dr. Smith is making sure he doesn't get lost or anything."

Nathan was a little worried, since Wendy had said Kyle didn't trust anyone but Lucas, but the psychologist ought to know what she was doing. "Very well. And you understand that you're entitled to personal time off if you need it, right?"

He grinned. "Yes, sir. But I think I've had too much time off already. Dr. Smith and Dr. Westphalen both said I could go back to work."

"Then we're very glad to have you."

"I'd like to speak with you when you have time, Captain."

"I have time right now. What's on your mind?" He came close to saying 'kiddo', but remembered that Lucas didn't like being called that on the bridge.

Lucas straightened in his seat and drew a deep breath. "Is there a reason I wasn't included in the bachelor auction?"

He beckoned Lucas down to where he was, waited the few seconds it took him to get there, and then spoke quietly. "Are you sure you want to talk about this here?"

His brows wrinkled and he looked back and forth. He did have the good sense to match volume when he answered, "Why? Are you going to try to say it's because I'm not old enough?"

"No. It's just that quite a few of your friends sacrificed an awful lot in both pain and humiliation to make sure you didn't have to stand on an auction block."

He nodded. "Yes, sir, and that's why I can't just sit around and do nothing when little boys in the Amazonian Confederation have it even worse than I did. At least no one wanted _me_ dead."

Nathan studied him a moment. He was indeed an adult and he didn't really need permission at all. He could go to whoever was organizing this and apply as an individual, but he'd _chosen_ to ask for approval and to go as part of _seaQuest_.

Lucas interpreted his captain's studious pause as doubt and added, "My friends didn't rescue me from _that place_ so I could sit around, doing nothing. They rescued me so I could be _free_ to make my own choices. I _want_ to do this, Captain."

"And you realize if a sixty-year-old biddy finds you adorable and outbids the hot twenty-year-old, that you still have to be civil and sit through a date with her?"

He grinned, blue eyes sparkling. "I'll even let her pinch my cheeks."

"All right then. May I assume you have something suitable to wear? It's black tie only."

"I can wear what I wore to your wedding—the ceremony part, not the crewing part."

"That'll work. Well, that's two civilians. Levin signed on just before we got to Cape Town."

"Dr. Levin is going too? Very cool."

_Oh yeah, cool_, Nathan thought with more than a little sarcasm. He cleared his throat. "Did you know I'm going too?"

"You?" he gasped. He leaned in and whispered, "Does Dr. Westphalen know?"

He smirked. "It was _her_ idea."

"Wow. A wife that lets you date. How cool is that?"

Nathan just shook his head and hooked his thumb in the direction of Lucas's station. "I assume you have something better to do up there."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm going, I'm going. Thanks for letting me be in the auction, Captain."

"You're welcome." _Kiddo._


	45. Chapter 68 Dreams at Sea

**Chapter 68**

Tim couldn't seem to stop stewing over Mary's betrayal. Just when he thought he was getting close to letting go, another bombshell dropped. Piccolo, Levin, and now Lucas were all joining the line-up. Piccolo, the biggest ladies' man on the boat after Miguel, and Levin, over whom all the female scientists and half of the navy girls aboard vied for a seat at his table on the rare occasions he ate in the mess instead of in the lab.

And of course, Lucas. Tim loved him like a brother and would never wish anything bad on him, except maybe a nice fat pimple or a bad hair day or something similar that might bring him down to merely a foot above every other schmuck instead of miles. But no. He had super-genius, charm, and an irresistible cuteness that was recognized by more than one person in the world. Not to mention, he actually _wanted_ to be in this dumb auction. Tim didn't think the captain was wrong to allow it. Why not let the brilliant, handsome, dynamic guy go strut his stuff? Great for the kid's ego, nice public relations for _seaQuest_ and the Navy, and sure to be very lucrative for the charity. Everyone wins. Well, except the poor guys who weren't lucky enough to be born Lucas Wolenczak.

Intellectually, Tim knew he shouldn't compare himself with others. No one else in the Navy could speak as many languages as he could. _Some good __**that**__ does when I never have a clue what to say._ No one else he knew of could Transmit telepathically. But that was a military secret, and not something they'd be likely to tout while he stood there on a stage, the way they'd probably tell the audience how many medals Commander Ford had won and how many science journals Lucas had been published in, or how many degrees and grants had been bestowed on Levin.

Tim started dreaming up what the fundraiser auctioneer would sound like. _Hey, ladies, how about that hot Miguel Ortiz? Five million dollars! Wow, thanks, Ms. Winfrey. Sorry we have to take a break now from the dashing scientists and stud-tastic Navy guys, but maybe there's some poor girl out there who doesn't have a couple million dollars. Not fair, right? So with that in mind, we're bringing out the bargain merchandise. Here he is, let's hear it for the four-eyed wonder, Tim O'Neill._ Smattering of applause. _Oh, come on ladies. Surely someone out there would bid twenty bucks to have him come fix a radio or vid-link, eh? He could do it, you know._

Snide voice from the back: _I bid a dollar fifty. _Nervous audience chuckling.

_Great, that's a buck and a half. See what I mean? No one should have to go home alone on account of cashflow. That's less than a bottled water. And water can't configure a home stereo system or your HDTV. This guy's a wiz with the wires, ladies, and unlike the electronics store's troubleshooter, you don't have to wait all day for him to show up._

_Ten bucks._

_That's what we're talking about. And worth every penny not to have to wait for the satellite installer. Did I mention how great Tim looks wearing a headset? That's something you don't want to miss_…

Captain Bridger's voice interrupted his waking nightmare. "Mr. O'Neill, inform the local colonies within a twenty mile radius of our projected course that we'll be passing by."

"Aye, sir." Even as Tim acknowledged the order and quickly flipped the correct switches to comply, his face heated with embarrassment over not keeping his mind on his work. He hadn't missed anything, but preoccupation was why he never talked to Mary while on duty. Now he was wondering if he wanted to talk to her when his watch ended. How could he get her to understand why this hurt so much?

Ten hours later, he was still grumpy and conflicted about the whole thing, even if he'd shoved it aside while on the bridge. He wanted to talk to someone, but who would understand? Wendy was his first choice, but she wasn't in her psych office, the crew lounge, or the mess, which meant she was probably in her quarters and he didn't feel justified in disturbing her personal time. For anything else, Miguel and Lucas would have been next on his list, but they were out of the question.

Tim went to the moon pool with the vague idea of talking to Darwin, but once he got there, he couldn't figure out how to explain the whole crazy concept to a dolphin and he was afraid he'd invite difficult questions. All he had to do was tell Darwin about Mary and pretty soon everyone would be whispering behind his back 'Tim has mate on Island Oklahoma.' So he just rubbed his friend's rostrum and talked about being glad to be home on _seaQuest_ instead. But while he prattled on about mundane things, all he could think about was how lonely Darwin had to be without other dolphins, and without a mate himself. _Loneliness sucks_. Tim had been happier in the horrid lithium mines, chained to Lucas, than he was now, and that made no sense at all.

_Ping_. That was Mary's unobtrusive way of telling him she wanted to talk, but leaving the door closed in case he was busy. It was useful when he could be at general quarters at any time of day or night.

_I'm not doing anything important_, he reported drearily.

_Are you still not talking to me?_

_I was on duty before. _Well, almost.

_And now?_

_Now I'm talking to a dolphin because my psychologist isn't available. _Snarky, but he didn't care.

_Wendy's not asleep._

_How do you know?_ He let too much irritation enter his mindvoice. She had every right to talk to Wendy any time she wanted.

_Because she's __**my**__ psychologist, too, and I've been needing her kind voice ever since yours got so angry. Tim, I'm sorry. There's nothing I wouldn't do to fix this. I'll tell Captain Bridger I changed my mind. He can take you out of the auction. I really thought you'd be flattered by the attention. I thought it would be a good reinforcement for your self-esteem._

The anger fell away and the raw hurt came through. _You've been out of the real world too long, Mary; you're seeing all this through rose-colored glasses. I know how you look at me and it's wonderful. It's awesome, in fact. But other women don't look at me that way, and even if they did, it hurts that you wanted them to look. What am I, some bait you're throwing out to see what I attract?_

_Bait? Tim, I love you. But I have to share you with the Navy and your friends and your submarine. Letting you do this was a personal sacrifice, but I tried __**not**__ to think about myself. I tried to think of those little boys in South America and, like I said, I thought I was thinking of __**you**__, letting you do something fun and personally rewarding, even if I would be jealous._

_You're jealous?_

_Of course I am!_

_Why didn't you tell me that?_

_How could you not know? Is that what this is all about? You __**wanted**__ me to be jealous?_

Silence, and then:_ Maybe._

_Tim, I'm still jealous of Wendy because she gets to see you practically every day. I was jealous of that Rita woman who undressed you. I—_

_I didn't enjoy that. She made me feel violated. But I had to pretend it was okay for the mission._

_I know. I never doubted you._

He sighed and some of the hurt faded._ Don't tell the captain to take me out of the auction. Everyone would know you just caved because I was a baby about the whole thing._

_You're not a baby. I would never have said yes if I knew it would hurt you like this. Will you let me come visit you in your dreams tonight? _

_V-visit?_

_Like I did that time you were in Slate's car. I miss you so much. I know you're in the Indian Ocean and your course isn't classified. I think I could find you._

_That's right. We're doing shark research and this area has quite a few large colonies. Check the Internex. We're probably on everyone's sonar._

_Your location wasn't as big a concern as your permission, Sweety._

_I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. Yes, I want you to try. In fact, I'm going to my quarters right now. I'm exhausted. _"Bye, Darwin."

It wasn't so bad, not understanding women, now that he had one woman who could understand _him_—well, some of the time, anyway. And he realized that was what he most wanted, to be understood without fumbling for words and trying to articulate things as nebulous as feelings.

He fell asleep quickly and Mary found him—easily, she claimed. It was almost like being together, when they embraced on the beach of his mind's landscape. Their minds were joined and that was the most important thing. She was able to read his feelings and she reassured him that his fears had been unfounded, at least where they concerned her motives. She still thought he underestimated himself, but now he found her confidence in him endearing. So what if he went for a buck and a half? At least at that price, there wouldn't be any unreasonable expectations.

She sang to him and kneaded his hurt muscles and kissed his bruises. They talked for what seemed hours, but Mary said it wasn't really, because she couldn't maintain a long-distance dream connection for that long. He could see the drain on her spirit even though she was masking it. "Go home, Beautiful. You've done enough for one night." She nodded sleepily, kissed him goodbye, and then floated away. It seemed only another few minutes before he awoke, but he felt supremely rested and somehow his muscles felt like they'd really had the massage that had happened only in his mind.

"Tim, you look great," Wendy said at breakfast.

He grinned. "I feel great."

She just stared, her jaw dropped, her eyes wide.

"Mary dreamwalked last night." He assumed that would explain everything.

"I take it you made up then. But that wasn't what I meant. Did you look in the mirror?"

He vaguely remembered brushing his teeth and running a comb through his hair. Surely he didn't overlook something important.

"Your bruises. They're gone."

He shrugged. "I had a good night's sleep."

"No. That's medically impossible."

"Maybe I just wasn't hurt as badly as you thought. I feel fine now."

She shook her head. "I must be losing it. Go see Dr. Westphalen. Now. I'll tell the captain if it'll make you late."

"You want me to go to Medbay because I said I feel great?" Maybe Wendy _was_ losing her mind.

"I want you to see another doctor who can verify what I think I'm hallucinating."

"Okay. I'll go. I'm not on duty for three more hours, so you don't need to tell anyone." If the Chief Psychologist was losing her mind, what hope was there for anyone? Wendy followed him, probably to make sure he didn't chicken out.

"Kristin, will you have a look at Tim's contusions," Wendy said as they entered Medbay. "I don't believe my own eyes."

Tim stopped in his tracks while Dr. Westphalen studied his face. Her eyes widened and she reached out and touched his cheek. "You're not wearing makeup, are you, Tim?"

"No ma'am."

"I see it too, Wendy. Do you have any explanation?" She looked back and forth between them both.

"Tim, tell Mary to connect with me," Wendy said in a tone that was about as close to an order as she could make it.

Somewhat alarmed at Dr. Smith's behavior, he cast a glance at Dr. Westphalen. She nodded with that reassuring smile of hers.

_Mary, honey?_

_Huh?_ Tim couldn't remember her ever sounding so tired and he'd called her at every odd hour imaginable. She always, _always_ perked right up for him.

_Are you all right?_

A deep groan. _Yeah._

_Wendy wants to talk to you._

_Tell her not now._

He looked at Wendy and cringed. "Mary says, 'Not now.'"

"Then tell her I'm calling the old-fashioned way and she'd better answer."

"Wendy—" Dr. Westphalen said gently.

"This is medical, Doctor," Wendy assured her colleague.

"M-medical?" Tim asked, her tone now worrying him.

Wendy nodded. "I think Mary did a little more than just talk to you last night, Tim. I need to make sure she's all right."

Dr. Westphalen's eyes bugged out a little. "You think she somehow healed him telepathically?"

"Yes, I do. And I know how draining it is, because I did a tiny bit of this myself once, but I could touch my patients. We're in the Indian Ocean and she's back in the States. Can you imagine how much more energy it would require to do something like this at such a distance?" Wendy started typing into the vid-link console in Medbay.

Dr. Westphalen put her arm around Tim. He had to be looking worried now. _Mary, the vid-link is Wendy. Please pick up._

The UEO trident faded into a picture of a sailboat in San Diego Bay—the one Tim had borrowed to propose in and then overturned with them both in it. Mary's voice crackled over the connection, but not from static. "Wendy, I'm fine. I just need rest. Thanks for your concern. Bye."

Wendy planted her hands on her hips. "Don't you 'bye' me, Mary Sue Watkins. If you're fine, then show yourself."

"Are you alone?"

"It's just me, Tim, and Dr. Westphalen."

"I don't bite, Mary," Dr. Westphalen said in her best bedside-manner voice. "We've talked before, remember?"

Mary coughed. "I remember. And I want to meet you, just—this is a really bad time. I wouldn't make a good first impression right now." Her voice was weak, like she was very sleepy.

Dr. Westphalen's voice was compassionate and soothing. "I'm a doctor, Mary. There's evidence here that you possess a healing power I can only dream about. I'm very interested in your ability, but also in how it affects you_. Someone_ needs to see you to assess your condition. I'll leave the room if you want, but will you please let Wendy see then?" Tim couldn't imagine that request being refused.

"I'm fine. Really."

"Then you won't mind showing me," Wendy said firmly.

The screen changed into live video and a groggy Mary scowled back. Her hair was rumpled and she had dark circles under her eyes. Tim had half-expected to see his bruises on her, but there weren't any. She did, however, look grumpier than Tim had ever seen her. "See? I'm fine. Now will you let me go back to sleep?"

"Mary," Tim said as softly as he could, "we're just worried about you. You're not normally like this." He looked at Wendy to support his case, so Dr. Westphalen would understand. She nodded agreement.

"What exactly did you _do_?" Wendy asked.

"I didn't transfer his wounds to myself, so quit looking at me like that," she grumbled.

"Can you _do_ that?" Dr. Westphalen asked.

"I don't know. I've never tried," Mary said. "I did what you did for all the guys on If, Wendy. I just helped his body heal itself."

"Contusions like he had do not heal that fast. Ever," Wendy insisted.

"So I speeded up the process, that's all. What's a bruise anyway? It's just a little hemorrhage under the skin, right? On its own, the extra blood is eventually absorbed." She smirked. "And _you_ thought I never paid attention when I was helping you study for A-Fizz."

"You told his tissues how to speed up absorption?"

"I think so, yeah. It wasn't conscious. I mean, if I knew I could do something like this, I should have helped more when he had internal bleeding on that raft in the Pacific. I just wished I could see his adorable face without all the bruises. I imagined the bruises fading fast, like a time-lapse video, and when I kissed him, they simply disappeared. But I was dreamwalking. I didn't think anything would happen in the physical world."

"Mar-_ry_," Tim forced her name through gritted teeth. She shouldn't be using the word 'adorable' like that in front of his doctors.

"This is extraordinary," Dr. Westphalen exclaimed. "Please tell me you're not going to deny Wendy the chance to study this and document it. It could mean a Nobel Prize for her." She smiled at Wendy as if she were her protégé.

A weary sigh from the monitor. "My door is always open to you, Wendy. I'll be your guinea pig."

The CMO cleared her throat. "I was thinking more like _you_ coming to _seaQuest_—asan honored guest, not a guinea pig. We need Wendy, and besides, you'd get to see Tim a lot more." She cast a quick wink his way. Too bad she didn't understand why this would be impossible for Mary.

Mary's eyes started to water and her voice wavered. "I'll think about it. Now if you'll excuse me." She reached for the disconnect button.

"Check in on mindlink in four hours or I _will_ call you again," Wendy warned.

"Yes, _Mom_," Mary said before the UEO trident returned to the screen.

"I'm sorry. She's usually not that rude," Tim said apologetically.

"Rude?" Dr Westphalen scoffed. "Tim, we're the ones who intruded into her privacy and forced her to talk to us. If anyone had done that to me, I'd have given them a piece of my mind in no uncertain terms, but she never raised her voice or threw a book at the vid-link or anything. And look what she did for you without even thinking about it. She kissed away your bruises because she wanted to see your _adorable_ face."

Tim felt his 'adorable' face get very warm.

"Kristin, please don't tell anyone about this," Wendy said solemnly. "The last time empaths were discovered to have long-distance powers, a lot of people got hurt, most of them innocent."

"Is that what she's afraid of? The detention camps?"

"No, I'm concerned about that for the rest of us, but that's not _her_ problem. I'm not sure I should be the one to explain. Tim?"

"I agree. That's not the problem."

Wendy cleared her throat and prompted with a nod of encouragement. "So maybe you'd like to explain to Kristin why Mary doesn't want to come aboard _seaQuest_."

If his face got any hotter with embarrassment, he was going to need ice or a fire extinguisher. And he couldn't talk about Mary without gushing. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Um, no. I think you could explain it better. Are you done with me?"

Dr. Westphalen crossed her arms. "You're in perfect health, Lieutenant. But you're a little yellow-livered when it comes to talking about women."

"Yes ma'am."

The women both laughed. Tim turned and hurried out before they decided they wanted blood or brain tissue samples or heaven-knew-what. As he was walking, he couldn't believe how good he felt and now he knew why. Of course, the doctors were right. The implications of this were staggering. If Mary could heal bruises and massage muscles like that from the other side of the planet, it was possible she and other psychics like her could heal all kinds of diseases and wounds. But curing the world was an awfully large burden to hang on Mary's shoulders. Wendy was her friend; she'd better look out for her, Nobel Prize or not.

Tim worried about what he should say if anyone else noticed the bruises were gone. 'My psychic fiancée in Oklahoma healed me in my dreams,' sounded lame and implausible, but beyond that, Wendy was right. It was dangerous to spread rumors about people who had special abilities. It could put all psychics in danger, and it could create fear and mistrust in those who didn't have the gift. If the captain or Commander Ford asked, he would defer the question to Dr. Smith, since he didn't like the idea of keeping the truth from his superiors.

Anyone else who asked was going to hear: 'I must not have been hurt that much.' It was probably least fair to Matthew, because the guy already felt badly enough for losing to Tim, but it couldn't be helped. Even if Tim were walking around with crutches, Matthew wouldn't feel any better.

But no one asked about it. They either assumed the bruises were old and ready to fade on their own, or they didn't pay any attention to his face in the first place. The latter was most likely. The shark research went very well and all the science guys were encouraged with the data they collected. They had to take a short detour when one of the colonies sent out a call for antibiotics of some sort. They'd already ordered their resupply, but they didn't have enough reserves to cover some small crisis while they waited for the delivery sub. The captain never hesitated to render humanitarian aid whenever he could. And for once, it didn't cost them much time. The colony paid for the medicine in UEO currency and everything.

_SeaQuest_ was able to replenish her supplies at the Marshall Depot, so they were never really in danger of being without. Tim had his dress whites cleaned and ready well before he would need them. He still wasn't looking forward to the bachelor auction, but he'd downgraded his irritation considerably. It probably wasn't going to be as bad as he first thought, but even if it was, it couldn't be any worse humiliation than Juno, nor was it likely to be a lot of physical pain, if any. Women seemed prone to slap his face a lot and he somewhat wished he still had bruises to discourage that behavior, but purple cheeks didn't tend to raise the bids much. If he had to get smacked, he at least wanted it to be after a nice large donation.

He was hoping that wealthy, non-Juno women would just be civil about the whole thing. Surely no one was pressuring any of _them_ into attending or bidding. They were there to help Amazonian boys while having a good time, right? He couldn't say he wasn't still nervous, but he'd resigned himself to it and he kept telling himself that everything was going to turn out fine. At least in another twenty-four hours, it would all be over.


	46. Chapter 69 The Charity Auction

**Chapter 69**

One couldn't really work at the shipyard in Pearl Harbor and not know that _seaQuest_ was heading into port. Unlike New Cape Quest, where _seaQuest_ had to surface and tie up to a pier, Pearl Harbor had an underwater berth where she could remain unseen and undetected. But since she wasn't on any kind of military mission, her arrival wasn't kept secret. Because of her size, importance, and recent accomplishments, _seaQuest_ was a big celebrity.

Katie had everything ready, since she and the other ladies made plans back in the South Atlantic, and she'd remained in contact with Drs. Smith and Westphalen in the meantime. Ben could have worn a tuxedo, but he opted to wear his lieutenant's dress whites, since he had retired from the Navy in good standing. Katie had a feeling that he felt left out when she went into Reserves mode and he had to sit back as a civilian. Katie had her own dress whites cleaned and tailored. It had been at least two years since she'd worn them.

Henderson arranged to be on launch pilot duty, shuttling everyone who had shore leave from the undersea berth up to the dock. Katie gave Henderson her private vid-cell number, so she could send a text message when she left _seaQuest_ with the auction participants. Thus, Ben and Katie were both there to meet the entire bachelor auction party when they came ashore. Even Lucas was wearing solid white and it almost hurt the eyes to see all those men in the bright Hawaiian sun. All the nasty face bruises had healed, with the exception of some lingering yellow spots around Brody's eye. He was just here as a spectator, so it hardly mattered. Dr. Joshua Levin stuck out like a sore thumb in his black tuxedo tails. Dr. Smith wore the same dress she'd worn to the captain's wedding and Dr. Westphalen wore a lovely peach and yellow formal gown.

Henderson didn't poke her head out of the launch. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone she was going to the charity event as Katie's guest, so she probably wasn't even dressed yet. The plan was for her to meet them at the hotel where the auction was to be held and to keep a low profile even after that, in order to surprise Miguel. Katie had done a little digging into her background and found out she had some aptitude for engineering, just the sort of young woman Katie might be inclined to take under her wing. But she wouldn't really know until she got in her Reserves time on _seaQuest_ and got to work with her.

Captain Bridger was wearing the same uniform as he wore on his wedding cruise, but he looked different. Not only had he decided to go for the clean-shaven look, he looked stiff and out-of-place, even more incongruous than he had looked at the Capitol. Katie had offered to help Dr. Westphalen with bidding funds, but the doctor was convinced the captain would be insufferable if she manipulated the outcome after pressuring him into this. Kristin would bid, but she wouldn't go beyond her own means. "I made this bed. I've got to lie in it," she'd said with that pragmatic British accent.

Katie planned to bid on any _seaQuest_ guy who had trouble getting an opening bid. Piccolo was probably the biggest risk, and Katie felt somewhat responsible after she'd recommended him. He was rather short and he didn't have the advantage of rank, but he did clean up nice in his dress whites and he was irresistibly cute. Mary was sending a trusted friend from her publisher as a sort of proxy who she hoped would win Tim. All the other guys were far too attractive to have to worry about no bids at all.

The two stretch limos Ben had hired were waiting for them, so they all had a comfortable ride to the hotel in Waikiki. Once inside the posh reception room, all the guys except Brody slipped backstage. Wendy and Kristin ushered Brody into the main hall while Katie left Henderson's ticket with the hostess so she could get in when she arrived. Katie found her way back to the rest of her party and then took Kristin and Wendy with her to register for bidding. They handed out paddles with numbers to make it easier on the auctioneer. The room was huge and they appeared to have a very good turnout.

They unloaded some officers from various ships that Katie knew were in port. Henderson was lucky they were saving the _seaQuest_ guys for last, trying to build anticipation and keep people's interest the way the weather always came last on the news. Henderson arrived just as the last of the Navy pilots got auctioned off. The last one was attractive, to be sure, but he had that look in his eye that said _I'm an arrogant S.O.B. and you'd better worship the ground I walk on_. Gah! She wouldn't pay a plug nickel for a guy like that, but some dumb blonde paid $50,000 for him.

Lonnie was dressed in a formal gown, but it reminded Katie of something she'd seen at her high school prom. It fit, but it wasn't terribly flattering and it looked at least ten years out of date. They'd talked long and hard two weeks ago, with two doctors also butting in, about how to go about this and while Lonnie's final decision probably wasn't what Katie would do, she respected her choice. She was an enlisted sailor from a small town in Wyoming and she wasn't going to pretend she was anything else. And since Katie was the one with money, Katie would bid on Ortiz. The direction this went after that was entirely up to Miguel, by Lonnie's insistence.

Dr. Levin came up for auction first. He looked great in the tuxedo, but he stumbled coming up the stairs to the stage and then he rocked back and forth on his feet while he stood there. Only two other women bid and Wendy won him for $5,000. Most of the women here wanted naval officers, so it wasn't too surprising they didn't go hog-wild over the science geek.

However, Lucas came next. He walked onto the stage in that hot white suit and flashed that winning Wolenczak smile. Katie thought they'd all go deaf at the volume of screams and whooping. The auctioneer had to wait for the audience to calm down so he could talk. It was probably a good thing the guy couldn't tell all these crazed women about the teen's accomplishments with the vocorder and his absolute wizardry with computers. Then again, they'd already proven that they didn't much care about scientists.

The auctioneer started his bidding at 5,000 and while even Navy pilots had gone up in increments of a hundred when they started, Lucas's bidders outbid each other in increments of 500 for about four times and then just went up by the thousands.

"Sold for seventy-five thousand dollars to number 72."

"Who is 72?" Kristin asked eagerly.

Wendy had a PDA with a list of the registered bidders and their corresponding paddle numbers. She quickly found the name. "Teika Yashimoto."

"Sounds like someone who should have waited for Shan," Katie remarked. She wasn't racist, just poking a little fun at names.

Dr. Westphalen shook her head. "You know Shan doesn't speak any Asian languages at all. He speaks Portuguese and English."

"Oh that's right. He went into that _favela _with you."

Wendy spoke up. "Says here that she lives in Honolulu. Robotics engineer."

The mother hen spoke again. "How old is she?"

"Doesn't say."

"I'm talking to her." Kristin started to break away from the group, but she would need to get around Brody and Levin and they were so clueless, they weren't moving.

"Kristin," Wendy said with the patience of a psychologist, "it's all right. She's not going to kidnap him; they're just going on a date. She's a robotics engineer. They'll have lots to talk about. Lucas is a big boy."

"Yes, of course. I just want her to know what _I_ might do if she gets any funny ideas."

Wendy cocked a brow, folded her arms over her chest and said, "Hippocrates."

"Damn you," she muttered, casting a glower at Wendy.

Katie gasped. The last thing she wanted to do was break up two doctors from starting a Gladiator match right there. Kristin broke the tension with a burst of laughter. Katie let out a relieved sigh. "You two had me going," she said.

"I had _me_ going too," Dr. Westphalen admitted.

Wendy looked at Henderson. "You're pretty quiet, Lonnie. Are you okay?"

"I'm just nervous."

"I won't let anyone else win Miguel," Katie whispered, trying to exclude the two men from hearing. "Don't worry."

"Oh, I know that, ma'am. I'm just worried about facing him and what he's going to think about all this."

Katie smirked. "He'd better be flattered that we went to all this trouble."

She shrugged and continued to watch the stage as Lucas met Teika. She looked Asian with probably some Hawaiian mixed in, and she was young, probably no more than twenty-five. Katie wasn't sure whether her apparent age was a relief to Dr. Westphalen or another red flag, but the mother hen didn't attack.

"Next up," the auctioneer said, "is Petty Officer Anthony Piccolo."

Tony bounded up the steps and showed off like he thought he was a rock star or something. Katie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Tony was cute, to be sure, and she would trust him to carry out her orders, but he was worse than Ben had ever been when it came to full-of-himself bravado. _Sheesh, I'm getting old_, she thought to herself. Three years ago, she would have thought a night with Tony would be a kick, a bit of innocent fun. Now, she had no interest in wasting her time with anyone who wasn't ready to commit to a stable relationship and a family.

"Just starting to move up in the ranks, he's full of surprises. We can't even tell you all the dangerous missions he's been on because they're classified." More screams and swooning females. Katie was relieved she didn't have to stroke Mr. Macho's ego with an opening bid. He did fine all by himself and finally sold at $7,500. The winner was a rather attractive redhead. Her name didn't ring any bells, but she seemed very familiar.

"Wow, doesn't she look an awful lot like…" Wendy trailed off.

Kristin coughed. "I would swear that's Lady Selena."

Katie snapped a quick picture with her vid-cell. Surely Selena, if that was even her, knew that this was Hawaii and not Juno. Tony wasn't Shortcake here and $7500 wasn't enough to keep him past one date. Tony didn't freak out, so he either didn't recognize her, or he didn't mind. Katie would save that picture, just in case.

"Now for your bidding pleasure, may I present Sensor Chief Miguel Ortiz," the auctioneer announced. Miguel's smile was just as fetching as Lucas's, but at least he had less swagger than Piccolo. The whoops and catcalls were almost as bad. Katie noticed Lonnie cringing out of the corner of her eye.

"Five thousand," Katie said as she waved her paddle. Why mess around with low bids? There were some gasps and Miguel looked her way and grinned. She elbowed Lonnie and whispered, "See? He saw us. He's cool with it." The female seaman didn't seem placated.

"He can't see who's bidding," Wendy said. "The lights are shining in his eyes. He's curious, but trying to be gracious and charming."

Katie kept waving her paddle every other bid, although she was feeling rather impatient with the way these women were upping the price so slowly. She started raising it by 5000 at a time and in another two bids, the auctioneer said, "Sold for thirty-five thousand." The crowds clapped enthusiastically. Katie made her way through the crowd to claim her "winnings".

Ortiz squinted through the lights and then a very confused voice said, "Commander Hitchcock?"

"That's right. You got a problem with me?"

"No, ma'am." But he was clearly surprised and speechless.

She waited until he was off stage and spoke in his ear. "Relax, Mr. Ortiz. You don't have to go out with the Blue-Eyed Bitch."

"I never called you that, even behind your back."

She didn't think he would have, but he surely heard others do it. "Good. Let me lay it out for you: Henderson wanted you, but she didn't have enough money to bid," she explained as they made their way back to where Wendy, Kristin, Lonnie, Levin, and Brody were. "I could have given her the money and it would have been no big deal, but she didn't want to—how did she put it?—trap you. I bid on you just so she wouldn't have to see you go out with someone else. You're off the hook."

"I don't get a date?" he said, almost pouting.

"I'd like to take you out," Henderson squeaked at first, but she quickly gained some composure. "I just didn't want it to be another case of you getting stuck by circumstances. The last time we were together, it was under threat of bastinado. And by the way, I'm going to make it up to Hitchcock somehow."

Katie knew the girl didn't make that much money in a year, even if she spent nothing at all. She didn't expect reimbursement. This was a good cause and she could afford it. Still, it seemed to be important to Lonnie, so Katie held her tongue.

Lonnie looked at her. "_SeaQuest_ is going to be in Pearl for ten days and I have shore leave for seven of those days. I emailed Mr. Krieg and he says I am welcome to donate my time to your company at the shipyard. I know it's not worth the full amount, but—"

"Deal." Katie had to admit she was impressed. She'd made the connection between her and Ben, _and_ she'd taken the initiative to contact Ben and make arrangements. This would be the perfect opportunity to see what Henderson was made of. If she really had engineering aptitude, Katie might get her money's worth, plus a part-time apprentice. She turned to Ortiz. "Well, Miguel?"

"I'll go out with Lonnie, but only if she lets me pay. A week of shore leave is already enough for her to sacrifice for me." He smiled warmly at Henderson.

"Aww, how sweet," Dr. Westphalen said.

By the time Miguel and Lonnie had things settled, Ensign Shan was well into the ten-thousands. Katie didn't even hear his introduction. But she'd heard the women ooo and aah over him. They had quite the little bidding war and he sold for sixty grand.

Lieutenant O'Neill was up next. He wasn't as awkward as Katie remembered him, but he wasn't as suave as Ortiz and Shan either. Bad teeth always ruined his smile in Katie's eyes, but at least his smile was genuine and not all haughty like Piccolo's. If only he could be counted on not to prattle on like an encyclopedia, a date with him might not be so bad. But Mary had been quite explicit about keeping out of his bids. She wanted Tim to see that other women would bid, all on their own. If Tim ever caught wind that she had put anyone up to it besides the proxy she was sending, Mary was convinced he'd dump her.

Katie didn't think Tim had it in him to be that vindictive, but she would stay out of his auction on principle. She liked the soft-spoken but pragmatic psychic too much to go against her wishes. The worst that would happen is that only her proxy would bid for him, and Mary could rest easy that her fiancée wouldn't be going out with some stranger.

"_SeaQuest_'s chief of communications is quite a catch, ladies," the auctioneer crooned. "He was recently awarded the Coast Guard's lifesaving medal and promoted to full lieutenant. His hobbies are scuba diving and painting, and he can say 'I love you' in a dozen different languages."

Tim muttered something under his breath.

"Excuse me, make that 20 languages!"

Big ooo's and aaaah's from the audience.

"But I'm obliged to inform you that he's engaged."

"Awwwww."

"Which means this is your last chance ever to change his mind."

Katie leaned in to Wendy and whispered, "Tell Mary he rolled his eyes at that." Wendy nodded which meant Katie's guess that the doctor was giving her a blow-by-blow in mindlink was correct.

"So who will start us off for Lieutenant Timothy O'Neill?"

"Ten thousand." It came from the other side of the room.

"Ten thousand from number 24, thank you. Who will give me twelve?"

"Fifteen," came another shout. Katie couldn't see who made that bid either.

"Twenty."

"Fifty."

Kristin leaned into Wendy. "Good heavens, Mary was right! They want what they can't have."

"Sixty."

Wendy turned to Kristin, but didn't say a word. There must have been a look.

"Oh my god. Nathan." She was bowled over with the notion of a bidding war like this over her husband. Katie was hoping Ben didn't tell the auction people he had a girlfriend. That wasn't quite the same as being engaged or married, but this was so wild and unexpected. The three ladies watched the auction with wide eyes and dropping jaws. Bids came fast and furious from all over the room. Katie didn't even register the skyrocketing amounts until…

"One hundred thousand." That came from right behind them. Katie turned to check out the bidder. It was Captain Judy Dreyfus, who commanded a _Navis_-class sub. Katie tried not to assume she probably wanted to woo the best Communications Officer in the fleet onto her boat. Maybe she really did just want a date with Mr. Forbidden Fruit. One thing was certain though, she probably was _not_ Mary's proxy.

A collective gasp sprung from the audience and silence reigned for a moment.

"Do I hear any advance on one hundred thousand?" Even the auctioneer sounded surprised.

"One _million_ dollars." It was loud and deliberate.

The auctioneer looked at the bidder's number, consulted a clipboard, and then said in an awed voice, "I have a bid for one million dollars from Natasha Nightshade. Going once…" The audience whispered her name amongst themselves.

"Mary knows Natasha Nightshade?" Katie would never have guessed the proxy could have been the most popular mystery writer in the English-speaking world.

Wendy smiled. "Quite well, in fact."

Kristin punched Wendy in the arm. "You knew! You knew and didn't tell us."

"Mary wanted it to be a surprise."

"…going twice…sold for one million dollars. Thank you, Ms. Nightshade!"

Everyone in the place applauded wildly and people craned their necks to get a look at the famed novelist as she came forward to claim her date. _Dang_. Katie wasn't romantically interested in women, but she would have given quite a lot to spend an evening chatting with Natasha Nightshade. The look on Tim's face was priceless and Katie snapped another pic with her vid-cell. Camera flashes were going off everywhere, but most of them were directed at the woman moving toward the stage and not at the utterly stunned lieutenant.

The men had been so quiet that Katie forgot they were there with them, but as Tim left the stage, she heard Brody comment to Miguel: "I would have had to follow _that_."

"I think that's his fiancée," Miguel whispered.

"I thought her name was Mary," Brody countered.

"Authors have pen names," Levin said.

"No way," Brody said. "Tim would have told us if he was marrying Natasha Nightshade."

Miguel took another look now that she was close and unobstructed. He shook his head. "Nevermind. That can't be her. Tim said Mary was a little plain, but look. She's hot." He pointed at Natasha.

Katie had to admit she was knockout gorgeous. She wouldn't have trusted Ben with that woman. No way in the world.

Lonnie punched Miguel in the arm and her punch was a lot less playful than Kristin's had been on Wendy. "What are _we_, chopped liver?"

"Sorry," Brody said while the other guys nodded, letting his apology count for them all. Brody muttered, "Still glad I didn't have to follow that."

"But guess who _does_ have to follow it," Levin said.

Miguel grinned. "Commander Ford." Everyone laughed, but they all covered their mouths and pretended they weren't. Katie was very good friends with Jonathan and she would do anything for him, but it _was_ rather funny that Mr. Serious had to follow the geeky lieutenant who sold for a million bucks.

"Okay, ladies, don't despair if a million dollars was out of your league. We still have three more fantastic men up here. Next up is _seaQuest_'s executive officer, Commander Jonathan Ford. Top of his class at the Naval Academy, he's also won New Cape Quest's triathlon the last three years in a row. He enjoys reading and the opera and he's a master of the tango. Let's hear it for him, ladies!"

_Tango? Jonathan knows how to dance?_ Katie wondered if the auctioneer hadn't made that up and poor Jonathan would have to apologize to whoever won him. Polite applause ensued and he had no trouble getting an opening bid, but his bids were growing much slower than they did for O'Neill. Katie wanted to bid, just to make it all look good, but Jonathan would probably feel worse. Her interference might imply she didn't think he could do well enough without her help. It was difficult, but Katie forced herself to keep out of it.

"Sold to number 104 for sixty-five thousand dollars."

Wendy quickly looked up the number. "Mika Wise from Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute."

"How did Mika find out about this?" Kristin asked no one in particular.

"You _know_ her?" Wendy asked.

"Commander Ford first saw her while wearing the pressure suit. Everyone thought he was hallucinating mermaids."

"He hallucinated a dead Atlantean king the last time he dove in that thing," Wendy said. "But it turned out to be a legitimate vision of a restless spirit."

"Legitimate vision? Like the non-existent fire he put out on the bridge?" Ortiz said.

"Yeah, like _you_ going all samurai-sword-dude on us," Brody scolded.

Dr. Westphalen interrupted their arguing. "Well, Mika obviously wasn't a vision or a hallucination. She's very real. She has gills, like Piccolo, but she's also got an amazing pressure tolerance he doesn't have. I've been trying to get her back on _seaQuest_ to run more tests."

"Well, maybe you can get Jonathan to ask her," Katie said. The commander was actually smiling at his date and he didn't spend smiles frivolously.

"And now, ladies, a rare treat indeed. The captain of the _seaQuest_ himself is here with us." The auctioneer paused while everyone applauded. "I don't have to tell you that this is the man who single-handedly prevented an alien invasion, nor do I have to tell you how he sacrificed his dream to save our polar ice caps. What I do have to tell you is that he was very recently married. But his charming little lady agreed to share him with one lucky bidder for one unforgettable evening."

Kristin gritted her teeth and growled, "Charming little lady?"

Wendy tried to encourage her with humorous tones. "Hey, look on the bright side. He could have called you the old ball-and-chain."

"Me and my big mouth." She folded her arms over her chest.

"So let's hear it for Captain Nathan Hale Bridger!" The auctioneer sounded like a game show host to Katie.

The captain stood up straight and didn't smile or wave. He wasn't frowning; he was just wearing his professional face. He looked a little younger without the beard, but Katie always had to remind herself that he was old enough to be her father. If she and Ben could look half as great as Kristin and the captain when they reached that age, they'd be doing well. Probably very few people could read the subtle clues that told Katie he wasn't completely comfortable up there, but if she didn't have Ben, she could see bidding on him herself.

_SeaQuest_ was going to be in port for ten days, which meant he'd probably be at the shipyard every day. She was eager to show him all that she and Lucas had done so far on Project Calypso and she looked forward to getting his input. But even the most rewarding work was never the same as sitting together in a deserted restaurant where she could prod him to regale her with old sea tales. Someday, they'd have to make time for that. When this new sub finished sea trials, maybe. She and Ben would have the captain and the doctor as their guests and they'd talk about old times instead of business.

Katie was lost in her reverie, so she missed it if the auctioneer asked for bids, but Kristin didn't need any prodding. She opened with ten thousand.

"Fifteen."

"Twenty." Kristin again.

"Do I hear twenty-five?" the auctioneer asked. A paddle waved about thirty feet away and slightly behind them. "Thank you. I have twenty-five from number six."

"Thirty," Kristin called immediately.

"Thirty-five." It was the same bidder, number six.

"Forty," Kristin said aloud, and then she whispered to Wendy, "Who is number six?"

"Savannah Rossovich. UEO Special Negotiations Team."

"Isn't she that psychic who almost derailed the Library of Alexandria conference?" Katie asked.

Kristin frowned. "No, that was her father. But I remember _her_. She's young enough to be his daughter, for heaven's sake! Katie, I may need that loan after all." The voice of jealousy wasn't hard to detect. Katie thought it was kind of cute.

"But you said—"

"I know what I said. Forget what I said. This is war."

Wendy cleared her throat, motioned Katie and Kristin to come in close so she could speak without the others hearing. "Would it make a difference if you knew Nathan put her up to this?"

Kristin all but exploded. "He _**what?**_ How do you know?" But even in the midst of the conversation, she managed to wave her paddle and keep up the bidding.

"When you said she was psychic, I asked Mary if she knew her. Evidently, she did. Savannah can mindlink just like me. Mary spoke to her and got the rundown. Nathan asked her to bid in an attempt to make you squirm. It's to get even with you for putting him in the auction to begin with."

Kristin's eyed bulged. "That little schemer."

The auctioneer was looking at Kristin expectantly. "Do I hear an advance on eighty?"

The doctor shook her head and lowered her paddle.

Katie gasped. "You're letting him win?"

Her eyes sparked mischief. "Ha! He's not winning. Wendy, please ask Mary to tell Savannah to deliver a message for me: Have fun."

Wendy was silent a few seconds while she did her mindlink stuff, then she chuckled. "You were right. She didn't expect this. Nathan told her you'd beat her out no matter how high she went. She's embarrassed."

The elder doctor smiled smugly. "I bet that's _his_ eighty thousand dollars, too. So nice of him to donate to Malique and Cynthia's cause."

Katie just watched in wonderment. "You two play dirty."

Kristin laughed. "Yes, I suppose we do. But he'll be sweet when he concedes this round to me. How about you? What would you do if Ben tried something like that?"

"What, tried to date someone half his age? I'd have him arrested." She paused while they all laughed. "But in all fairness, Doc, if I didn't know you, I would have bid on him. Not for romance, but just to listen to his old Navy stories."

Kristin crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, well, I hope little Miss Rossovich likes old Navy stories."

Katie turned away to look at the stage. It was her fault Ben was last. They'd put the merchandise in order of expected selling prices. Of course, they had been totally wrong about Lucas and Tim, but that was the breaks. Katie had been planning to donate a million dollars, just like Natasha Nightshade did, and to put that price on Ben's head just as a little reward for being a good sport about the whole thing. But now she felt like it was copy-catting Mary's idea. She still had no intention of letting anyone else win him and she didn't care if they _were_ trying to make her jealous. She _was_ jealous and she may as well admit it.

"Next up, we have a retired Navy Lieutenant, Benjamin Krieg. He lives and works right here in Honolulu as the Chief Financial Officer of Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns. And ladies, may I remind you that this is our last bachelor. Everyone who doesn't want to go home empty-handed, this is your last chance. Get him while he's hot."

"Twenty thousand," Katie called.

"Thirty." So, on the last man of the night, they weren't going to waste time on dinky increments. So much the better.

"Fifty," Katie said.

"One hundred." She didn't see who made the bid but she was slightly surprised at the escalation.

"Two hundred fifty thousand." If it hadn't been for the famous writer, Ben would have beat everyone else at that price. Who wouldn't be flattered by a quarter million dollars?

"Three hundred."

Katie stood on tiptoe, trying to see who was bidding. "Who the heck _is_ that?" she muttered under her breath. No one in her party could see the number, so they couldn't figure it out."

The auctioneer hadn't seen another bid from Katie, so he said, "Three hundred thousand going once…"

"Five hundred," Katie said. Loud and proud.

"I have half a million dollars. Any advance on half a million?"

Katie held her breath.

"Sold, to…" a pause while he checked her paddle number against his list, "…to Lieutenant Commander Katherine Hitchcock. Isn't that two for you tonight?"

Katie was so relieved the thing was over that she was in the mood to joke. "Yep. Starting my own harem." The audience laughed and clapped.

"Well, the Amazonian Alliance Against the Slaughter of Children thanks you all, ladies. You've been a great audience and generous bidders."

Ben flashed one of his charming smiles when she met him. "So, who gets you tonight, the guy you won first, or the guy you paid the most for?"

She forgot he didn't know why she had been so intent on winning Miguel. "Henderson wangled Ortiz in private negotiations. You're all mine."


	47. Chapter 70 Expensive Date

_**Author Note: No, I'm not done with my original novel. But I really, really missed **_**seaQuest**_** and I missed my wonderful readers over here. I hope you all have missed me at least half as much as I've missed you because I've missed you a LOT. So, in honor of the anniversary of the first day I posted here on FF-net back in 2009, I snuck over here and posted another chapter. I wasn't happy with the way this story ended, so I'm adding to it.**_

_**However, before anyone gets any ideas, I am not "back" yet. I still have a commitment to finish the novel I started. It is presently 19 chapters long and I expect it will need another 10-15 more chapters to finish it off. That means at least 6 more weeks, probably longer. Stories always seem to end up longer than I think they're going to take. I don't have an outline. I deleted the old author note that explained everything about my hiatus, but it's still on my profile if anyone is interested.**_

_**Also, I realize this chapter is fluff. I'm warning you right now. I couldn't start anything exciting and then drop it to go back to my commitment and leave you hanging, so I just indulged in some fluff. I took it right up where I left off and just had a little fun. I hope you like it.**_

* * *

**Chapter 70**

Tim was stunned. He made the connection between Mary and Natasha easily enough, but he couldn't believe how many others had bid against her. With Natasha on his arm, he got more attention than he'd ever had in his life. Camera flashes kept going off and he saw so many spots before his eyes that he could hardly see anything else. Natasha smiled and posed and waved to all her adoring fans, but she never let go of Tim's elbow and she really acted like she had spent her own money and chosen him above all others. Tim knew that couldn't be true, but it was still great to have all these people _thinking_ it was.

Somehow, and mostly by Natasha leading the way, they found her limo. When the car door shut, she dropped her public smile like it had been a mask. "Mary told me you were cute, but I don't think even she expected so much bidding competition."

"So she put you up to this?" Not that he really had any doubts.

"Of course. She didn't want you going out with some gorgeous philanthropist she couldn't trust not to snatch you away."

"But _you're_ gorgeous."

"And you're sweet too. She knows I'm not going to steal you, so that was part of her motivation, but when she came up with the idea of the publisher making that big donation, she didn't push me. She paid for the plane ticket, but I'm on my own time. I mean, yeah, who wouldn't want a free trip to Hawaii, but I really did want to meet you."

"Y-You did?"

She nodded. "Oh, absolutely. She talks about you all the time. I'm sure Mary would have introduced us eventually, but she thought this would be fun for both of us. She was devastated when you were so upset about being in the auction."

"I was a jerk. I apologized." Tim pushed his glasses up his nose.

"She told me. And she told me that you know _she_ writes the books and _I'm_ the imposter."

"Funny. She told me that you're the _real_ Natasha Nightshade and _she's_ just the ghostwriter."

She chuckled. "Same difference."

"Uh, so where are we going?" He turned his head to gaze out the window at all the palm trees and lush greenery. The sun was setting and that was one thing he always missed on a submarine.

"The publisher paid for this, so we have to make an appearance together for some publicity shots. All you have to do is stand beside me and look handsome."

_Look handsome? _He bit his lower lip and glanced back at the gorgeous model sitting beside him. He couldn't even keep looking because then she would look at him and he couldn't stand the thought. He just hoped the publisher wasn't going to be disappointed they spent a million bucks for pictures of their star author with him instead of one of the hunkier guys.

"You really _don't_ know it, do you?"

_Huh? _Had he been too distracted that he'd missed something she said? "What?"

"That you're handsome."

Was she empathic too? Mary had never said how they met or what they had in common.

She laughed. "No, I don't have Mary's gift. You're just so obvious. I could see it on your face."

He produced a weak smile. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"Listen, I'm not going to lie. I could have bid on another guy. It was the publisher's money, not Mary's. I saw a few guys who were a little better-looking than you. Not a lot, but a few. But I wanted to meet you and Mary would have been worried. I wouldn't blame her. That sub captain—what was her name?—Judy?—she looked like she wanted more than just some photos and a dinner."

_Judy?_ "Oh, Captain Judy Dreyfus." He smirked. "She wanted a new Communications Officer for her _Navis_."

"A hundred grand would have made it pretty hard for you to say no, wouldn't it?"

He winced. It hit him just how hard that would have been. He didn't want to leave _seaQuest_, not for anything, but if a pretty captain put up a bunch of her own money and was really nice to him, maybe even begged, he could have seen himself saying yes out of pity. "Thanks for saving me from that."

"My pleasure. But you know who should get the thanks. Mary's too good of a friend for me to let her Sweety get stuck with some conniving woman with an agenda."

He could have contacted her telepathically right then, but he thought it would be rude to be chatting with his fiancée while on a date that cost her employer a million dollars. "I'll be sure to thank her too."

The limo kept driving past all the big hotels on Waikiki, any one of which would have had a nice restaurant where they could pose for pictures and get something decent to eat. Hawaii was one place where he didn't have to worry about being vegetarian. He could live on papayas, mangos and pineapple for weeks and every restaurant would have those.

They turned onto a dirt road and Tim thought for sure the driver was lost in this less touristy part of the island. The road had to have a turnabout in it eventually. They'd turn around and go back to the paved road and get back on track. He didn't worry about it.

"So what are you going to tell all your friends when they want to know what I was like?"

This thought had not occurred to him. Usually only Miguel ever asked about his dates and that was when he knew about them. But _everyone_ would hear about this. Most of the bridge crew had been at the auction and those who hadn't been there would hear the scuttlebutt or they might see him in the news. There had been an insane number of flashes going off and didn't Natasha say there were going to be more reporters at the restaurant?

"What _can_ I tell them?"

"Random-Shuster-Amazon made the charity donation on behalf of Natasha Nightshade. Natasha is very compassionate when it comes to children."

He chuckled. "Do you always talk about yourself in the third person?"

"Only with someone who knows the truth. Natasha isn't really me _or_ Mary. She's a fictional character that we both portray for the public. Mary is too agoraphobic to do her own appearances, but changing my name so that my I.D. says I'm Natasha Nightshade doesn't give me Mary's ability to write the books. And when people meet me, _that's_ what they want to talk about—the books. So I have to play a mystery writer. I read every book before it's released and I ask Mary the questions I assume people will want to ask so that I have credible answers to give. But sometimes people surprise me and I have to make something up."

"But then you _are_ creating fiction."

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. But it's stupid stuff like which of 'my' fictional murderers would I most want to plan my own death."

That did sound like an interesting question. "So which is it?"

"I told the little old lady from Detroit that it depended on whether I wanted the murderer to succeed or not. Simon Phillerman from 'Death in the Garment District' missed his target twice, so I could probably figure it out and get him arrested. But Leon Mattias from 'The Syndicate Hitman' never missed and his victims all went quickly and painlessly. If I wanted a successful death, then he'd be the man."

"Good answer," was all Tim could think to say. He felt like he'd already asked the real writer of all those books everything that was important and didn't know what else to ask the celebrity 'character' everyone thought wrote them. "Uh, I think the real question everyone is going to ask is why the heck did you pick _me_?"

"Well, you could tell them that I'm a good friend of your fiancée. That's not even a lie. It's also not a lie that I wanted to meet you because Mary has talked about you so much. But Natasha Nightshade is a mystery writer, so I think your answer to the nosey-bodies should be chockfull of mystery too. Tell them that all I would say was 'Research.'"

"Research?" _On what, four-eyed geeks?_

"Tell them I asked a lot of language questions and about international relations and so forth. You're smart. Make up something cryptic and exotic."

Tim grinned. For once, he could look forward to bragging about a date. Miguel and Lucas would be jealous of him. Wait. He'd better be careful about Lucas. He might dig up Natasha's real identity and blow her cover. Besides, what was he thinking? This wasn't a real date. This was a tax write-off publicity stunt. He was engaged; he didn't have to play the stupid dating game anymore.

The limo stopped and Tim's breath caught in his throat. Did they get stuck in a rut or something? Thick foliage surrounded them on both sides and it looked too narrow for the limo to turn around.

"This is it," Natasha said. Her door opened from the outside and the driver took her hand to help her out.

Tim looked out his own window. They were too close to a stalk of bamboo to open his door, so he scooted on the seat to follow Natasha out. It probably looked a little undignified in dress whites, but thankfully no flashes went off. He could just see himself turning up on some newspaper looking like a doofus.

It was a small restaurant, definitely off the beaten path, but there could be no ugly view in Hawaii, especially if you weren't anywhere near a high-rise hotel. Someone had put out a short little red carpet and the reporters all lined up very nicely to take pictures. Natasha led Tim along, walking slowly and stopping every few steps to pose and smile. She leaned into Tim and whispered, "Do you want to take your glasses off?"

At first he thought it was a put-down. Had he been wearing his older glasses, that might have been valid, but he was wearing the fancy designer frames Mary had given him. Then he realized she must have seen him squinting at all the flashes or maybe she was trying to help the reporters reduce the glare or something. But taking off his glasses wouldn't really help if he couldn't rub his eyes and he'd be nearly blind both from flash and without his corrective lenses. Besides, Mary's frames probably improved his appearance. "No thanks," he whispered back.

They had a table waiting for them in a secluded corner and as soon as they were seated, the photographers took another round of pictures. Tim was a little overwhelmed with all the shutters going off but he just concentrated on keeping a neutral, professional face. Looking like a doofus was one thing, but he'd never willfully dishonor the uniform. They did a toasting pose with their water goblets and the photographers took shots of that. After a while, they seemed to be satisfied they had enough pictures, and they all backed off. Natasha handed one of the photographers a business card. The photographer winked, accepted it and said, "Thanks, Tash."

She looked back at Tim. "He promised he'd make me an 8 x 10 if I liked one of his shots."

"For Mary?"

She laughed. "Well, if _she_ wants one, I'm sure we can get two. No, it's for _me_."

"I want one too," he blurted out to the retreating photographer. His face warmed with embarrassment, but the photographer turned back, smiled, and gave a thumb's up.

A waitress in a turquoise and white hibiscus-patterned sarong and a red ginger lei greeted them, handed them menus, recited the fresh fish of the day, and then gave them time to browse.

"I told those photographers where we were going in exchange for them leaving us alone when they were done," Natasha said.

Tim never had to think about dodging reporters or photographers. If ever they wanted a _seaQuest_ comment, they'd always go after the captain or Commander Ford. He buried his face in the menu, hoping this would excuse him from having to come up with witty chit-chat.

Natasha just kept talking, evidently oblivious that he wasn't making eye contact. "You'll notice there isn't much on the menu for vegetarians, but I talked to the manager and made sure they had the ingredients for eggplant parmesan and spinach lasagna, so you can order those even if you don't see them."

"What if you didn't win the auction?" Tim asked without thinking. Yeah, right, like anyone else had more than a million dollars and wanted _him_. He'd be eating tofu burgers with Captain Dreyfus right now, trying to squirm out of a transfer.

"I'd have been very disappointed," a voice behind him said. But it was a voice he was more used to hearing in his mind. Tim dropped his menu and whirled around. Mary stood there with Father Baker. She was wearing a bright pink muu-muu and a yellow flower in her hair and he wore a khaki uniform. "Surprise," she said sheepishly.

"Mary!" Tim bounded out of his chair and threw his arms around her. Squeezing her tight and lifting, he drank in her scent. She was so warm and soft and wonderful and he felt chills course his spine. "How did you get here?" She never flew because of the crowds and one couldn't very well drive a car to an island.

"Company charter," she said, hugging him back just as tightly.

He cast an accusatory glance at Natasha. She threw her hands up in surrender. "I only said she paid for the tickets. I never said she didn't come on the same plane."

Tim was torn. He hadn't seen his fiancée in three months and she was standing there right next to him. He wanted to whisk her off alone somewhere. Still, he was _Natasha's_ dinner date and she'd gone to some trouble setting everything up just for him. He shook Father Baker's hand briefly, wondering why he was here. Sure, he was stationed at Pearl, but this was nowhere near the base.

When Tim turned back around, the table had been set for four and Mary was already taking a seat next to his. "I hope you don't mind, Tim," Natasha said.

He chuckled. "It wasn't _my_ million bucks."

Natasha motioned the chaplain to join them. Obviously both of them had been expected.

"I was planning to come to Hawaii for my Confirmation eventually," Mary said with a tone one used to begin a long explanation. She'd probably read Tim's emotions and sensed his confusion. "We were going to wait for Easter, but then you told me _seaQuest_ was coming here for the auction and I felt so badly about getting you into this…"

He squeezed her hand. "But you were right."

"I couldn't go to the auction, not with all those people. Besides, the publisher wasn't going to make the donation unless Natasha got all that publicity out of it. Mary Sue Watkins is not one of their 'famous authors'."

"But you're here, at a restaurant," Tim said, beaming with pride.

"Father Baker has been helping me control my senses," she explained. The chaplain nodded but didn't interrupt.

"I thought you didn't believe in suppressing them," Tim said in a mild scold.

"I still don't. But he suggested I could focus my senses on just one person at a time, like a horse wears blinders. He was going to let me use him for a deep scan to keep me distracted, but then we discovered he can keep me occupied if he is mentally reciting Scripture or prayers."

Tim looked at him, trying to assess whether he was still in mental recitation. The chaplain shook his head and smiled.

Mary cleared her throat. "I switched focus when I saw _you_, Sweety."

"Awww, isn't that cute," Natasha said.

"I already spoke to Captain Bridger," Father Baker said, looking at Tim. "He says you and Doctor Smith are both available Sunday for the Confirmation. It's going to be just us. We don't want to overwhelm her."

"But I want to meet some of your friends before I go," Mary said. "Maybe one at a time, or Doctor Westphalen and the captain together?"

"Everyone who knows about you is dying to meet you."

She frowned and alarm flashed in her eyes. "Why? What have you told them?"

He squeezed her hand again. "That I'm madly in love with you."

"Oh." Her cheeks colored and she stared into her water glass.

"Dinner is on Random-Shuster-Amazon, Father," Natasha said. "Please get whatever you like."

The chaplain grinned mischievously. "Oh they're in trouble now, Miss Nightshade. They're in trouble now."

And despite the fact that every single one of them knew that the bill here would be a drop in the ocean compared to what the publisher had donated to the charity, they all laughed anyway.


	48. Chapter 71 Nathan and Savannah

**Chapter 71**

Nathan didn't say much to Savannah Rossovich while they were in the convention hall where the charity auction was held. It was too loud to talk and he was still debating how to approach the awkward situation. They stayed long enough to see Ben Krieg's auction, but even with a billionaire girlfriend, his auction had been rather anti-climactic after O'Neill got snagged by Natasha Nightshade. Nathan had known, of course. That had been Mary's plan from the beginning and the reason she agreed to this whole silly shenanigan.

Funny how old friends had come out of hiding to attend this fundraiser. Jonathan ended up with Mika Wise, the incredible mermaid-woman he'd discovered at crushing depths while conducting classified trials in the pressure suit. Nathan overheard her say to her expensive date that he owed her a night at the opera and this was the only way she'd get it. By the looks of things, Jonathan wasn't unhappy to oblige her. Hadn't Kristin said something about contacting Mika at Wood's Hole? Did he dare wonder whether the conniving women of _seaQuest_ had arranged for her to be there? Or could it be, that like Nathan, Jonathan had taken matters into his own hands and arranged it himself? If he did, he sure had a much better poker face than Nathan did. He looked genuinely surprised and excited to see her.

Nathan, on the other hand, had botched his little attempt at turning the tables. Savannah had been quite amenable to coming to Hawaii and bidding with his money, but he'd overestimated Kristin's capacity for jealousy. He thought he'd been so clever to recruit a telepath whom he assumed could tell _before_ Kristin was about to give up. The idea was to make his wife _pay_ for pushing him into this, but to eventually let her win. Now he was stuck going on a date with Savannah and feeling rather ridiculous about the backfired plot.

"Sorry, Captain," Savannah said when they cleared the building. "But I'm supposed to tell you that your wife says to have fun."

"My wife?"

"You didn't tell me she was friends with Mary Watkins. I couldn't lie to her if I wanted to. She's too strong an empath. She'd know."

Nathan chuckled. "You'd think I would know better by now." At least he hadn't hurt Kristin's feelings. She'd quit because she knew it was a plot, not because she ran out of money or rivalry. "Should we invite her?"

Savannah exhaled a sigh of relief. At least he thought it was relief. He'd told her from the beginning that he was married and that all of this was a prank. She didn't really want to date a married man twice her age, even if she had found him intriguing when they first met. "I'd like that."

"Go ahead and pass the word. I assume this went through Wendy to Kristin?" Sheesh, how embarrassing to know Wendy was privy to all this after enduring the _seaQuest_ scuttlebutt about his infatuation last year.

Savannah nodded and then paused, no doubt having a mindlink conversation. "She accepted. Where do you want her to meet us?"

He shrugged. "It's _your_ date."

"I didn't plan a _date_! I was supposed to _lose_, remember?"

"Tell her to meet us out on the sidewalk. We'll share a cab."

Another pause, then, "She's on her way. Mary says to tell you she's sorry if she ruined anything and she's going to be unavailable for a while."

"Tell her she didn't ruin anything."

A nod and a pause. "So how do you know Mary?" she asked conversationally.

"She's engaged to Lieutenant O'Neill."

"The million dollar guy?"

He chuckled. "One in the same." He didn't tell her that Mary knew Natasha and set that whole date up for Tim's benefit. No one needed to know that but Tim and Mary.

"I can't believe she's getting married again. She's been in deep hiding ever since she was widowed."

Nathan nodded. He knew the pain of losing a spouse only too well. He hated when people told him to put it behind him, like he could just forget her. One of the reasons he loved Kristin was because she never did that. She didn't begrudge him having fond memories of Carol.

"My Chief Psychologist introduced them. Do you know Wendy Smith?"

"Of course I've heard of her. You can't work for the UEO as a telepath and not have heard of her."

"Heard of who?" Kristin said from behind them.

Savannah jumped and Nathan stifled a laugh. She was supposed to be psychic. He hadn't startled as much as she did and if anyone, _he_ was the one who should be afraid. He turned slightly and smiled at his wife. "Dr. Smith," he answered. "By the way, do you know Miss Rossovich?"

Kristin gave Nathan a shadow of a dirty look, but quickly turned to Savannah. "Yes, we met on _seaQuest_, remember? When there was a security breach."

Not 'during the Library of Alexandria negotiations' but the information leak. Funny she should remember it that way.

"Dr. Westphalen." Savannah offered her hand and Kristin took it.

"Oh, call me Kristin, please. How's your father?"

"He's doing well. I think he's going to retire in Spain."

"That's wonderful. Did you say you know Wendy?"

Savannah shook her head. "I know her reputation, but we've never met."

"But you know Mary?"

"Yes, but I haven't heard from her in _years_. She scared me to death when she popped in my head."

Nathan chuckled. "Now you know how it feels."

Kristin smirked at him and sidled up to Savannah, taking her arm like they were long lost pals. "Just ignore him. Wendy and I could use your help figuring out how to get Mary to come aboard _seaQuest_."

Carefully controlling his exasperation at being squeezed out on a date he paid eighty thousand dollars for, not to mention enduring being gawked at by all those crazy women. "Are we going to eat or should I just go home and take off my dress whites?"

"Hmm. Do I detect frustration, _Captain_?" Kristin asked, being very deliberate about the formality.

"Yes, _Doctor_. I did this because you insisted I needed to be an example. I stood up there like the Good Humor guy, the only married man at a bachelor auction. So is this a date or not?"

She gave him that smoldering look of hers. "And did you attempt to make your devoted wife jealous of the lovely young woman you set up to bid on you?"

He raised his hands. "Guilty." He wanted to point out that Mary manipulated the bidding on Tim and pushing Tim was what got him into this in the first place, but even if Kristin knew Natasha was a plant (and he was pretty sure she did) certainly Savannah didn't know and it wouldn't be right to tell her.

Kristin left Savannah's side and took his arm instead. She leaned in and whispered, "It worked. I'm sorry for pushing you."

He nodded. "And I'm sorry I pushed O'Neill into this without asking him first. Although it appears he didn't do so badly after all."

"He's out with two women too," Kristin said, her brown eyes twinkling.

"Wha—?"

"Mary's here and Natasha is just as gracious as Savannah in sharing her date." Kristin cast a glance back at Savannah, then motioned her to come stand with them. A cab stopped at the curb. Kristin smiled. "Since I pushed you into this and you've donated so generously to Malique and Cynthia's cause, dinner is on me. How about we do a luau?"

Savannah brightened at Kristin's change in mood. At least there would be plenty of food and entertainment and he wouldn't have to worry so much about awkward conversation between his wife and the too-young 'date' he'd hired.

They let the taxi driver recommend the luau and he didn't disappoint. The food was great and both the décor and entertainment looked as genuine as any he'd seen. Nathan asked Savannah about her work and Kristin prodded her a little more about Mary, but only in a 'welcome to the sisterhood' kind of way, not enough to be nosy or pushy. He did apologize, but Savannah waved it off. "What for? I got a free trip to Hawaii and you told me the complete truth from the start." She encompassed Kristin in her gaze. "And I had a lovely time with both of you. Thank you, _both_."

* * *

_**Author Note: Well, I know it's a short chapter, and admittedly a bit on the fluffy side, but I just couldn't wait any longer to get back. My original novel rough draft is finished and now it's getting critiqued and edited, but I think it's safe for me to come back to fanfiction now. I hope you missed me half as much as I missed you. I'm excited to be back. Better chapters coming soon.**_


	49. Chapter 72 Jonathan and Mika

_**Author Note: Hey, why didn't anyone call me on messing up canon references? Jonathan offered to take Mika to the ballet, not the opera. My bad. Somehow it got filed in my brain as "one of those high-falutin entertainments for rich folks" and I messed it up. All previous references should read "ballet" instead of "opera". They're going to end up at the opera, but only because there's not a lot of ballet troupes in Honolulu (or there won't be in 2023). Hope you like the new plot twist.**_

* * *

**Chapter 72**

Jonathan Ford tried to hide his excitement at seeing Mika Wise, but he suspected he was doing a poor job of it. He'd thought about her after she'd left _seaQuest_ to explore the world she'd never known, to be, as she called it, 'a real person'. He'd wanted to see her again and take her to the ballet, but he didn't have so much as a telephone number and he had no idea where she disappeared to. When she didn't look him up, he assumed she found other distractions or that she reconciled with the man she called "father". Jonathan didn't like Dr. Franklin Wise for several reasons, not the least of which was he tried to force him into gill surgery. Since Jonathan was also indirectly responsible for Mika's decision to leave Abalon's underwater sanctuary, he would bet the elder doctor didn't like him much either.

But here she was, bidding on him at this crazy bachelor auction until she won. Not that he got as many bids as some of his fellow officers, but he went for a respectable price and he got to go out with a girl he was actually interested in. There was no ballet running anywhere on Oahu, so she took him to a University of Hawaii production of "Pirates of Penzance" and then out for a late dinner afterwards. He found himself humming "I am the Pirate King" while perusing the menu.

"You liked the show then?" Mika asked.

"Yes. Thank you. Have you ever seen it before?"

"Father had a movie disc in his archives, but I've never seen it live, no."

He couldn't help wincing at the mention of her father. He tried to hide it by quickly raising the menu. He spoke from behind the erected screen. "So what have you been doing since last I saw you?"

She chuckled with a demure laugh that was sweet and melodious. "Don't you _know_?"

Her soothing manner disarmed him and he lowered the menu again. The look in her eyes said she thought he was joking. "How would I know?" he asked. "I haven't seen or heard from you."

"Your _experimental_."

He'd only ever heard that word used as a noun for one thing. "Piccolo?"

She nodded. "Who do you think they studied before they recruited volunteers?"

_Volunteers? They found guys in military prison and lured them with 'get out of jail free' cards! _But she probably had no control over who was chosen as implant guinea pigs. "They?"

"I'm an intern at Woods Hole." She frowned. "Well, maybe 'intern' isn't the right word. I did learn a lot there, but they weren't as interested in my research as they were interested in studying _me_."

Jonathan knew Woods Hole was an outstanding institute, devoted to cutting edge research and exploration. They wouldn't have forced her into medical probes any more than Piccolo was 'forced' into getting gills. "The experiments were a success. Piccolo was released to us over a year ago. Weren't they done with you after that?"

She looked around, and this time it wasn't out the window or at the tropical flowers scattered around the room. She was looking at the people. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Jonathan, the gills were only _part_ of the experiment."

She had his undivided attention. And now that his eyes were glued to her face, he couldn't help thinking how beautiful she was. She was intelligent, but she'd also retained some of that childlike innocence from growing up in the sea, isolated from society.

"Do you remember where we first met?"

How could he forget? He'd thought she was an illusion, a mermaid conjured by his carbon dioxide-saturated mind at 34,000 feet. _The pressure suit. Of course_. "They want your depth tolerance."

She nodded. "But so far, none of the experimentals has had any success with the pressures. Some of them can swim very deep, but they can't go as deep or come up as fast as I can, or they get the Bends." Her eyes searched his. Her face radiated concern or perhaps fear. "Jonathan, I have a confession."

He waited, but she seemed hesitant to trust him. He took her hand. "What?" he prodded gently.

"I wanted to go out with you, but I had another motive for trying to see you. I need to ask you a favor."

If anyone at Woods Hole was threatening her, he'd bust their chops right now, just like he'd tried to defend her from Abalon's two 'sons' when she came up on land the first time. He gave her an encouraging nod.

"I think something has happened to Father and I think it's my fault."

"You're not responsible for him, Mika."

"I told the researchers things, Jonathan. Things he didn't want people _up here_ to know. I trusted every scientist who came to Woods Hole, that they were all seeking knowledge for the good of mankind. But that's naïve, isn't it?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately."

"I didn't know it was so unusual to live to be 138 when I told them Father's real name. I forgot all about it until his emails stopped coming." Worry creased her brow. "He and I disagreed about me living up here, but I still love him. He wouldn't just stop writing to me. Something's happened."

"Woods Hole has several submarines. Why can't they go check on him?"

"Because then I'd have to reveal where he lives and I don't know who I can trust… except you."

"Why trust _me_? Your so-called brothers kidnapped me and Abalon intended to force implants on me. I'm the _last_ person you should trust."

"If you don't care about Father, I understand. But what if he _has_ found some kind of Fountain of Youth? And what if that secret falls into the wrong hands? Surely the UEO would care about _that_, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah, they probably would."

"Captain Bridger didn't report him, Jonathan. Father told me himself. He hears every transmission that goes on in the sea. If anyone had a motive to do him harm, it was _seaQuest_. But you haven't gone anywhere near him, have you?"

He shook his head. He'd dropped all animosity when Dr. Wise told his 'sons' to let the _seaQuest_ crew and Mika leave in peace. He didn't have room to hold grudges and neither did Bridger. "Have you talked to the UEO?"

She scoffed lightly. "And tell _more_ people how old he is and where to find him?"

"I see your point. But you're not expecting me to not tell the captain, right?" Jonathan would never withhold anything from Bridger ever again, not even under orders from an admiral. He might vehemently disagree with his captain and even tell him to his face, but that was different. The captain respected that. Bridger demanded very little, but he deserved honesty and Jonathan would never give him anything less.

"No. I trust Captain Bridger." She released a nervous chuckle. "I heard he and Dr. Westphalen married. If I didn't win the auction, I was going to accept Dr. Westphalen's invitation for a fellowship so _she_ could get me close to him."

"You paid $65,000 to get an audience with the captain? But he would have talked to you _without_ me or Dr. Westphalen."

She shrugged. "I saw him on C-SPAN during his Congressional hearings. He doesn't seem the same as when I met him."

Jonathan laughed. "But he_ hates_ giving speeches and schmoozing with politicians. That's not _him_. That's what he had to do to try to raise money."

She quirked a brow at him. "Like _you_ had to stand up there and let women bid on you."

He shrugged. "It was for a good cause."

"And exactly why I didn't mind paying." He wondered where she came up with that kind of cash, but then he figured scientists would have paid her handsomely to question her and run endless tests on her physiology. "Besides, I didn't want to see 'Pirates of Penzance' alone."

"Do you want to try to find the captain now or can it wait until morning?"

"We should let him enjoy his date."

Jonathan had heard who won the captain and while the date might go all right, he couldn't help but think Nathan Bridger would have hell to pay to his fiery-spirited wife over it. Dr. Westphalen had bid until she ran out of money. Sure, she pushed him into this stupid auction, but that probably wouldn't be enough to save the captain from some kind of tongue lashing for enjoying himself with a woman half his age. The commander pulled a PAL from his pocket, his finger hovering over the transmit button. "Enjoy? We'd probably be saving him grief. Say the word."

"No. You're not getting away that easy this time." The room lit up with her sparkling smile and Jonathan returned the PAL to his pocket.

He smiled back. "Good. I'm starved."

They set aside the subject and ordered food, which turned out to be excellent. They talked about some of his non-classified missions and she told him about her adventures in the world above sea level. Time stood still and Jonathan discovered he was really enjoying himself. All too soon, the restaurant shooed them out to close for the night.

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

She gave him an unreadable look. He realized she thought it was some kind of come-on.

"So I can contact you for meeting the captain," he explained.

"Oh." She melted back into that sheepish shyness of hers. "The Queen Kapiolani, room 617."

"I'll call you as soon as I get it set up. Do you want Dr. Westphalen in on this or not?"

"Dr. Westphalen was kind to me. And I may still take her up on her offer to come work on _seaQuest_, but I have to look for Father first."

"Good. The captain doesn't like to keep secrets from her, unless they're military."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Jonathan. For the date and for being willing to listen."

"No, thank _you_. I had a great time. I'll call you."


	50. Chapter 73 So Much for Shore Leave

**Chapter 73**

Nathan slept like a rock after the luau. But somewhere in the fog of morning he heard Kristin's voice whispering, "Are you awake?"

He glanced at the bedside clock and yawned. "We're in port,_ Doctor_. I was planning to sleep in."

She snuggled close, spooning her front against his back, and answered playfully, "Don't you 'Doctor' me in our bed, _Captain_…" She paused to heave a contented sigh. "Well, unless it's to _play_ doctor like we did last night."

Nathan grinned and took her hand. He did have some paperwork to do and he'd promised Hitchcock he'd come by the shipyard where she was working on Project Calypso, but nothing was so pressing that he couldn't enjoy a few minutes of snuggling with his wife. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Wendy and I are going shopping and we're meeting Katie and Lonnie for lunch." She pulled her PDA off the nightstand and started touching the screen icons.

Nathan issued an exaggerated groan. "You and your estrogen gang."

She ignored him, keeping her attention on the small display screen. "Nathan, do you have some time to meet Mary?"

"Special Agent Watkins?"

"Yes. I have a cute little email here from Tim asking me when it might be convenient for the two of us to meet his fiancée in a quiet, private setting. It's really quite sweet."

"Email? Why didn't he just ask us?"

She gave him a playful swat. "Because we're in Hawaii and on leave, and he's trying not to 'bother' us. He did copy you on the email though."

"Does it say how she is going to handle her…uh…"

"Gift? Yes, Tim says he'll be present for her to use as a focus point so she can keep from reading our thoughts. He also suggests we don't try to shake hands or touch her as that makes it more difficult to block us."

He rolled over to look Kristin in the eyes. "How do _you_ feel about someone invading _your_ mind?"

"Nathan! The reason she hasn't met us before this is she's so worried about overhearing our thoughts by accident. Savannah tried to get in deliberately and you forgave _her_ for it. And she never saved your life or helped you monitor a dangerous mission."

"But I was able to keep Savannah out. You weren't here when Clay Marshall came aboard. You didn't see what he did to Lucas. I think Mary is just as strong as he was, maybe stronger."

"Well, _you_ can bow out if you want, but I told her I wanted to meet her. I'll do it off of _seaQuest_ if you think she's some kind of security risk." Her tone was biting and sarcastic.

"I never said she was a security risk. I'm just not so sure that having her aboard as a guest is a good idea. Wendy says Tim has good 'walls' guarding his military secrets, but I'm not so sure about the rest of us."

Kristin narrowed her eyes and arched a brow. "_I_ could get any military secret out of your head _I _wanted," she boasted. "So could Wendy. Does that mean we're not welcome?"

A heavy dose of sodium pentothal and there was no telling _what_ he might say. He didn't really think she could get _any_ secret she wanted, but that wasn't really the point. Dammit, why did she always have to be right? "It all comes down to trust, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "Mary has proven herself. But more than that, I trust Tim. He'd never suggest a meeting if we'd be violated or embarrassed. Your lieutenant is giving his fiancée free rein inside _his_ head just to keep _us_ from feeling uncomfortable. Would you let _me_ do that?"

Nathan hadn't had a choice when Wendy was drugged by Beauregard, but he hadn't fought her either. And he did open his mind to Savannah after she _asked_. That was one of the reasons he'd asked her to do this auction thing for him. She already knew he wasn't interested in her. Still, this idea of a stranger reading his private thoughts was disturbing. "A man's mind should be a sanctuary, Kristin. But I'd let you in if you really wanted it."

"Don't worry. I usually know what you're thinking anyway," she said with a sassy smirk. But then she hardened her expression to serious again. "My only point is that Tim is giving up _his_ sanctuary just so Mary can meet a few of his friends. I'm not going to take that sacrifice lightly."

"No, you're right. I want to meet her too, but I hope this makes you think twice about whatever plot you have brewing."

Her face became a mask of total innocence and she batted her lashes. "What plot?"

"Were you not paying attention the last time you checked my hearing? I'm not deaf. You've been scheming with Wendy and Savannah to get Mary aboard _seaQuest_ for more than just meeting a few of Tim's friends."

"That's legitimate scientific interest, Captain."

"Then you'd better understand, Doctor, that Lieutenant O'Neill is not available to hold her hand indefinitely. Has anyone even _asked_ Tim how he would feel about having her aboard for more than just a short meeting?"

Her eyes told him she hadn't, but she wasn't going to concede. "Why wouldn't he want the woman he loves to be close?"

"Maybe so he can have a private thought every now and then? Maybe so he can concentrate on his _job_, or did you forget this is not the Love Boat?"

Her hand slid over his chest and she knew right where her touch would get his attention. She leaned in to whisper seductively in his ear, "Not the Love Boat? Really?"

He waved his index in her face. "You _know_ what I mean and you're trying to distract me on purpose."

She withdrew and gave him a curious look. "Am I too much of a distraction for you?"

He drew her forward, into his embrace. "No, Kristin. I think we both have a good handle on keeping our professional and private lives separate, but we're older than Tim and Mary, not to mention Mary has other challenges we never have to worry about. Remember, I _wanted_ you on _seaQuest_. When I 'saved the world' and could have asked for anything, _you_ were the first thing I asked for, even before I asked for funding for the new sub. And you said you left England with the intent of seeing if you could get back on as a staff scientist, before you found out CMO was vacant and before we talked about getting married. You wanted to be here too. I don't want Tim or Mary pressured into anything."

"You're right, Nathan." She kissed his cheek and pulled herself away and out of bed. "But we're still going to encourage her. Mary's psychic healing ability is worth study, not to mention her telepathic powers. Wendy says her reluctance has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with an abusive past. And we're not forgetting that we'd need to work out solutions to her challenges. Wendy and I want her to know she is welcome and not just as Tim's girlfriend."

"Fair enough. Ask when they want to meet and I'll clear my schedule."

Kristin's fingers danced over her PDA, taking more time and movement than would be needed for replying by email. She had to be using text messaging.

"Why don't you try a PAL?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "What were _you_ doing when _you_ were on leave and your fiancée was in town, hmm?"

He waved a surrender. Of course she was right. He often forgot that despite his encyclopedic language base and nearly robotic devotion to work, Tim was human. He'd used email out of respect, it was only fair to return the courtesy.

Nathan got out of bed and started searching for his civvies. Kristin had 'reorganized' his drawers again and they weren't where he'd put them. Without looking up from her PDA, she said, "Third drawer, left," before he had a chance to ask. He had on everything but his shoes when she looked up from her screen. "Zero-nine-thirty?"

"I can do that. Where do they want to meet?"

"Father Baker's office. Tim says you know where it is."

Nathan nodded. "Admin building. Does that time work for you?"

"Perfectly."

"Go ahead and confirm for both of us then."

Kristin typed a little more and then set her PDA aside and got dressed. Nathan was thinking of a quiet, unhurried breakfast in the mess and then a nice walk to the chaplain's office to meet his special agent. The knock on his hatch door startled him. He looked down at his watch. Who would be up at 0800? "Who is it?" he called through the door.

"Commander Ford, sir. I can come back another time if you're busy."

He glanced at Kristin to make sure she was fully dressed and didn't mind the intrusion. She nodded back. "Come on in, Commander," he said.

Ford was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and sandals. He gave a greeting nod to each of them. "Sorry to bother you on leave, sir."

"It's no bother. What can I do for you, Jonathan?"

"You remember Mika Wise from our first tour?"

"Of course. I don't think I ever apologized for not believing you about her."

He waved off the apology. "Her father is missing and she suspects foul play."

"Franklin Wise is over 135 years old. Maybe he finally died."

Ford gave a tight-lipped nod. "Possible. But the timing is suspicious. She mentioned his real name to some scientists at Woods Hole—people who would know who he was and how old he should be—and shortly thereafter, his emails stopped."

Nathan turned on his diplomacy button. "This is a private matter between her and her—her—"

"Father. That's the term she uses. She's still not on great terms with the guy, but she doesn't hate him or want him dead."

"Why doesn't she just report this to the authorities?"

The commander cleared his throat. "I could ask you the same thing, sir. Mika tells me that Dr. Wise believes you never reported his existence or his whereabouts."

Kristin beamed a smile at her husband while Jonathan waited patiently for an answer. Nathan shrugged. "You didn't want to press charges, so what was the point? He was taking a big enough risk by letting Mika leave."

"It appears his fears were well-founded."

"Surely no one would be after gill technology," Kristin put in. "That's already been duplicated. And they can't really expect secrecy when they used prisoners as their test subjects." Piccolo had probably kept his mouth shut, but who knew about the character of the others.

"Mika is more worried about the lure of a Fountain of Youth." Ford spoke the last three words with a heavy tone of sarcasm and rolled his eyes at the same time. Clearly, he didn't think the mythical fountain existed, but that didn't mean someone else didn't.

Nathan frowned. "But Dr. Wise said it was cold temperatures and the high ion content of the air that had extended his life."

The commander cleared his throat. "How many other undersea colonies have the same conditions and yet no one else has demonstrated his longevity?"

Kristin's eyes flashed with recognition. "He's got a point, Captain. Either there is something special about the cave where he made his home or he did experiments on _himself_ and didn't tell anyone." Probably no one else could hear the way her voice changed when she was talking about science and medicine, but Nathan could always hear it. She was in full science mode now.

"Mika doesn't trust anyone on the surface." Ford said. He turned and looked Nathan straight in the eyes. "You told her after she helped us that if she ever needed anything, that _seaQuest_ would be there for her. She's calling in that card."

_Me and my big mouth_. Nathan shook his head and started to pace. "_SeaQuest_ is not my personal fishing skiff, you know. I can't just take off anywhere I want to check on some random old scientist who faked his own death sixty years ago."

"Which is why_ I'm_ asking you instead of Mika. I think this is a lot worse than she realizes."

"How so?"

"Captain," Ford said with a tone of patient urgency, "how dangerous would it be if our enemies got their hands on his depth-tolerance technology? The stuff we _haven't_ been able to duplicate. Do we want those…Macro-netians…" he stumbled over the name of the Alliance they'd only ever heard spoken by a Temporal Agent from the future.

"Macronesians," Nathan corrected quickly.

Ford nodded. "Do we want to take a chance they could breed an entire navy that could swim around unassisted at 34,000 feet?"

"And live forever," Kristin added.

_Damn_. "You're right. But I'd better let Admiral Noyce in on this."

Another nod from the commander. "Mika trusts you, sir. If you say the admiral can be trusted, I don't think she'll argue."

"She can't stop us now anyway," Kristin observed.

Nathan stopped his pacing and looked at Ford. "Will she come with us? We'll have to take a shuttle launch once we get there. The first _seaQuest_ was scraping the walls of his cave and this one is twelve feet wider."

Ford cracked a ghost of a smile. "I think she'd like to come, yes. But you should ask her yourself. I think she only bid on me to get to you."

Kristin narrowed her eyes at Ford and shook a finger at him. "Don't pull that nonsense on us, Commander. I've been trying to get her on _seaQuest_ since January. Nathan would have taken a call from her too. She bid on you because she wanted to go to the ballet. With _you_. How _was_ your date anyway?"

"No ballet for miles, so we went to see 'Pirates of Penzance'. I haven't had such a good time since your wedding."

She smiled warmly at him. "That's lovely to hear, Jonathan. You should take her out again while we're here. Even if Admiral Noyce approves of searching for Dr. Wise, he probably won't deem it an emergency." Kristin looked at Nathan to catch his reaction. He nodded agreement. The admiral might move their departure up a few days, but probably not to immediate.

Ford nodded to her and then to Nathan. "Thank you, sir."

"Not at all. If she wants to talk to me, bring her by later this afternoon. Unless you're going somewhere."

"She won't relax until she's talked to you. Is thirteen hundred too early?"

"That's fine, Commander." _So much for a nice break_.

"Should I come?" Kristin asked.

Ford nodded. "She said you were kind to her, Doctor. She may even be open to that fellowship if we find her father."

The commander let himself out. Nathan turned to his wife to see if she was ready for breakfast. She was giving him one of her devious smiles. "What?" he asked nervously.

"Not the Love Boat indeed."


	51. Chapter 74 Meeting Mary

_**Author Note: I originally intended to skip this fluff with the OC, but I got carried away. If you're interested in Mary meeting Kristin, Nathan, Miguel, and Lucas, here you go. If not, feel free to skip this chapter as nothing exciting happens. Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, or whatever else you may celebrate.**_

* * *

**Chapter 74**

The meeting with Captain Bridger and Dr. Westphalen was going well, as far as Tim could tell. Mary didn't open up a two-way mindlink, so he couldn't read her the way she was reading him, but she seemed to relax after the introductions. The captain was quite serious about having her formally instated as a special agent, and Tim could tell she was flattered, but she deflected the suggestion in favor of modesty. The couple of times she'd helped were probably just flukes of circumstance and it was unlikely they'd ever need her special skills again.

"But I am always available, Captain," she said. "Never doubt that I'd be willing to help. Both Tim and Wendy know how to get ahold of me."

The captain leaned in a bit and said, "Good, that means you're still my private secret weapon."

Dr. Westphalen smiled warmly. "I was also serious about you coming aboard so that Dr. Smith could document and research some of your abilities."

Tim felt a rush of conflicting emotions. He was afraid for Mary to consider coming on _seaQuest_ because not everyone was going to be as gracious and welcoming as the captain and doctor. He worried about how others would react to her and then he felt guilty for having admitted there was anything that should cause others to be repulsed. And while he truly didn't mind giving Mary freedom to scan him while they were together, he wasn't sure how well that would work if he was on duty, especially if he needed to think about classified matters. And then he felt badly for having considered his own problems when he should have felt elated at the prospect of having her close.

Mary squeezed his hand. She whispered a quick, "I know, Sweety, I know." Then she faced Dr. Westphalen. "That's very generous of you and it isn't that I'm not tempted, but I'd need to practice blocking people again before I could consider it." She lifted the hand holding Tim's. "This is the only reason I could meet you and still respect your privacy. Tim's a great sport to allow me to do this, but I wouldn't want to interfere with his work."

"Thank you," Captain Bridger said. "I'm glad _someone_," his eyes flitted back to his wife for a fraction of a second and then back to Mary, "is considering Tim in all this."

Tim got the distinct feeling that the captain wasn't really talking to Mary at all.

The doctor smirked at her husband before speaking to Mary again. "I'm sure Tim would love having you aboard as well."

She smiled back, almost as deviously. "No, actually, he's a bit terrified that he couldn't stay as professional and focused as the two of you always are."

Tim gasped lightly. _Ma-ree_.

She flashed an apologetic look. "Oh, sorry, Sweety. I probably shouldn't have blurted that out. See what trouble I can cause? I'm so used to my hermit ways."

"Just think about it," the doctor said. She didn't seem deterred at all. Maybe Wendy could talk some sense into her, Tim hoped.

"I will. I should probably go before I say something Tim will want to clobber me over." She stood but didn't let go of Tim's hand.

Dr. Westphalen stood as well. "Mary, Tim warned us not to touch you because it's hard for you to block us. If I accept the risk, will you allow it?"

"I—I'm very strong, Doctor. I'd be able to see things that no one should."

"I don't have any military secrets. A few scientific ones, maybe, but nothing I couldn't trust you with."

"But your _personal_ secrets…?" She put an almost painful emphasis on the personal.

She waved it away. "Pish posh. Nothing I wouldn't tell you if you came aboard."

The captain cleared his throat pointedly and spoke through his teeth. "Kristin."

"Oh, come on, Nathan. You've got to know that when women get together we talk about our men. And for your information, Wendy says I have pretty decent 'walls', too."

"Wendy has been inside your mind?"

Tim felt uncomfortable, like the married couple had forgotten he and Mary were right there. _No, it's all right,_ Mary said in his mind.

The doctor addressed the captain, but she made no effort to whisper or guard her voice. "You knew I'd been seeing her in her professional capacity ever since Juno."

"Yes, but I didn't think that included letting her in your head!"

"We're _friends_, Nathan. I asked about her work in parapsychology and one thing led to another and I gave her permission. I wanted to know what it was like."

At the lull in the conversation, Mary spoke. "I'm stronger than Wendy, Doctor. I might even knock down your walls by accident."

"No you won't. I appreciate you warning me, but I bet that you'll respect my walls." She extended her hand to Mary. "I trust you. Let me be your friend."

Tim didn't know what to think. Dr. Westphalen had always been more than a doctor to him—somewhere between mother and friend but just short of either. He'd never been able to call her by her first name, but not for the same reasons he had for the captain.

_It's all right, Tim. Let go. _Mary's mindvoice was calm and sure.

He released her hand and she placed it inside Dr. Westphalen's. Silence took over for about two seconds and then the doctor pulled Mary to her chest, wrapped both arms around her and whispered, "Welcome to the family."

"Thank you," Mary said with a quivering voice.

Mary could use a few good friends and Tim was very grateful Dr. Westphalen wasn't afraid of Mary's abilities, but he felt a little awkward sitting there. He cast a nervous glance at the captain, who merely shrugged. The doctor released Mary from embrace, but held both her hands at arm's length. She looked her in the face, saw the tears and dropped one hand to gently wipe her cheek. "Do you have plans for lunch?"

Mary sniffled. "Uh, we're going to meet Miguel at 10 and Lucas at 10:30 and I thought I'd be done-in by then."

The doctor checked her watch. "It's almost ten now. I'm meeting Wendy for a little shopping and then we were going to meet Hitchcock and Henderson for lunch. You could use me for focus if you'd like to join us."

"Thank you, but I think I'd better take this slowly. Four people at once is too much for me right now."

"All right. How about just you and me, tomorrow?"

"Uh…" She looked back at Tim.

He couldn't tell if she was excited or terrified. _It's okay by me if you want to_.

"We could ask Wendy to join us if you think you can handle two doctors probing you about psionic healing." Dr. Westphalen sounded like she was trying to make the idea more appealing by including someone she already knew.

The dried eyes moistened again and her voice found its quiver. "You know what I'm capable of and you're worried about asking _me_ questions?"

"I just want you to be comfortable. Please?"

"Yes. I accept."

"Good. Do you want me to call or text you?"

"I—uh—I don't have a vid-cell."

The doctor laughed. "Don't worry, neither does Nathan. He has an old-fashioned voice-cell though."

Mary emitted a nervous chuckle. "It's been years since anyone ever needed to contact me like that."

"Well, I _could_ just make Tim relay for me." She winked when she spoke but Tim shrugged his indifference.

"You can email me, or call the hotel," Mary said. "I'll probably be there."

Tim had maneuvered around to stand behind his fiancée. He mouthed, "Thank you," for the doctor's eyes only. She winked again, smiling.

"Come on, you," the captain said in mock exasperation. He'd also stood and was now at the doctor's elbow. "It's Ortiz's turn. We don't want to encroach on his time."

The captain shook Tim's hand. "Thank you for sharing your fiancée with us. I know this wasn't easy to arrange."

Tim nodded. He wasn't going to deny that this was extraordinary. Even if the lunch with the lady doctors went well, Tim didn't think there would be much contact in the future. They'd come to the wedding and maybe call her on vid-link, but she was a hermit for a reason and Oklahoma didn't have any ports or naval bases.

Mary released Dr. Westphalen's hands and took Tim's hand again. She didn't extend a hand to the captain but she did look him in the eyes. "It was a pleasure meeting you both."

They smiled and hurried out the door. Miguel was waiting in the hall outside. He exchanged quick greetings with the captain and doctor before slipping into Father Baker's office. Tim had tried to prepare him more than any of the others because he hadn't been privy to all the help she'd already given to _seaQuest_. He wasn't on that life raft in the Pacific and he didn't go to Juno. He did know something about her gifts because he'd caught Tim having telepathic conversations with her when he was staying with his family in Cuba. That morning on _seaQuest_, he'd taken Mary's advice and played that Jimmy Soul song. Miguel had laughed. "I don't care if she's ugly."

"I don't think she's ugly," Tim had explained. "But she doesn't fit most modern definitions of beautiful either."

"Look, man, she makes you happy. Who cares what she looks like?"

"She'll know if you're lying, so don't."

"I thought you said she wouldn't scan me."

"She's going to try hard not to read you. But if you're lying, she'll be able to tell. You're not going to get her upset just to have an opinion. Just don't lie about it."

Miguel slapped him on the back. "Come on, I know how to talk to women. Don't sweat it, okay?"

Don't sweat it. Right. What would he do if his best friend and the love of his life couldn't get along? It was too late now to do anymore coaching and it would probably upset her if he thought about it any further, so he banished the thought. He glanced at his fiancée to see if she was ready. She nodded and smiled.

Tim motioned Miguel into the room and cleared his throat. "Mary Watkins, this is Miguel Ortiz."

She smiled. "So you're the one with the beautiful cousins all after my Tim."

"Uh, yeah. That's me." Miguel figured out it was a joke and let his easy-going nature take over. "Hey, is it true you set him up with Natasha Nightshade?"

She laughed. "Yes. We both work at the same publisher. They put up the money, but she could have bid one someone else if she wanted. I begged her to bid on Tim so that sub captain wouldn't get him."

Miguel looked like he didn't remember, so Tim muttered, "Dreyfus," under his breath.

He gave a nod of recognition along with a wince. "You did him a big favor then. Dreyfus tried to recruit me while they were building the second _seaQuest_. Like her Navis-class would have been any kind of match." The last phrase he said with heavy sarcasm.

"Miguel's our sensor chief," Tim explained. He used his voice so his friend wouldn't think they were saying anything bad about him in mindlink. "And Navis subs have only two WSKRS. It would be a total waste of talent." He didn't mention how closely-matched the Communications positions would have been. They both knew it would have been hard to refuse Captain Dreyfus if she'd won him at that auction.

"So when are you two getting hitched?"

Tim forced a cough. "When I find a Best Man who isn't so obnoxious."

"It's okay, Tim," Mary said. "He probably assumes it's you holding us up." She looked back at Miguel. "I'm making him wait to prove that his career on _seaQuest_ wouldn't be threatened by our relationship."

"You don't mind him being on tour?"

"Not really, no. He can call me whenever he's not on duty and I'm usually such a hermit that his leaves will be a drag. He needs to go on tour to get out and see the world."

"You know _seaQuest_ is a submarine, right?" Miguel didn't really think she didn't know, but it was rather ironic that Mary thought his life would be more exciting in a tin can underwater than somewhere on land.

Mary answered, "No way. When did the Navy get one of those?"

Everyone laughed at her joke.

"Sheesh, Tim," Miguel said, "I see why you keep her holed up in that cabin in the woods. You let the rest of the world find out about her and she'd get snapped up by some other guy in a heartbeat."

"Hands off. She's mine," Tim said, a little more defensively than he'd intended. He knew Miguel was kidding and he trusted his fiancée to be true, but the suggestion had brought a flash of jealousy he hadn't expected. She squeezed his hand in reassurance and he relaxed.

"_He_ doesn't keep me holed up. I do. I'm agoraphobic and really bad with people."

"I'm 'people' and you're not bad with me."

Tim rolled his eyes. "You're not 'people', Miguel. You're like a sponge or something."

"Oh, Sweety, don't be so hard on him. He's at least a mollusk." She grinned. Tim couldn't remember her ever being so casual with anyone else.

"Ha ha," the sensor chief said. He punched Tim in the arm. "Why didn't you tell me she was so funny? I just thought you were laughing all the time because you're such a moron, but she's actually funny."

"Yeah, well, I tried to tell you I wasn't a moron, but mollusks don't have very good hearing."

"My hearing is great. I just always have on headphones."

"Yeah, _listening_ to mollusks," Tim joked.

"Mollusks don't make noise," Mary whispered to Tim, but loudly enough to be overheard.

"Funny _and_ smart," Miguel said.

They went back and forth like this for the whole thirty minutes and probably would have gone on even longer, but Lucas knocked on the door.

"Okay, Mollusk Whisperer, your time is up."

Miguel stood and did a very Asian-looking bow. "Nice to meet you. I lost the bet that you were a figment of Tim's imagination."

"Nice meeting you too, Miguel," she said.

Miguel and Lucas passed in the doorway with nods and high-fives.

"Mary Watkins, please meet Lucas Wolenczak," Tim said after the door was closed.

Lucas started to extend his hand but remembered belatedly that Tim had advised against it. He retracted it before she needed to explain or refuse the courtesy.

"How are you, Lucas?"

"I'm great, thanks to you."

Tim wasn't sure which time he was talking about. Mary had been instrumental in getting his jellyfish-stung eyelids treated so he didn't go blind, but that had been several months ago and she'd done an awful lot of support on the Juno rescue as well.

She scoffed. "I didn't do anything. It was all the guys who went in undercover that were the real heroes."

"Yeah, but you kept us in touch with _seaQuest_. That was so cool when you helped me talk to Captain Bridger by touching Tim. Hey, have you ever tried to mindlink with a dolphin?"

Anyone else probably would have thought Lucas had planned to take over the conversation that way, but Tim knew him well enough to realize it just popped into his head and he went with it because he found it interesting.

"No, I can't really say I have," Mary replied.

"You should come talk to Darwin. Tim has connected with him before, but he had to answer in weird dreams. Maybe you could understand his brainwaves better."

She shrugged. "Wendy told me she tried once and all she got was some strange Kelvin temperature of light. I didn't even know light _had_ a temperature."

"But you're stronger than Dr. Smith, right?"

"I have a greater range of abilities and some of my talents might be a little stronger than hers, but she's had a lot more training. She has better control."

"I still think you'd have a better chance at real communication with a dolphin. It can't be any worse than meeting a human. Have you ever felt deluged with dolphin emotions when you get close to the water?"

"You may have a point there, Lucas, but…" She trailed off.

"To get close to Darwin, she'd have to be exposed to a bunch of humans too," Tim explained.

"Not if I sent him to the surface and you met him in a rowboat."

Tim coughed. "I nearly drowned her the last time I got her in a boat."

"Oh, come on. You were Kendall's first mate on _skyQuest_. You know how to sail."

He laughed. "I also know how to capsize, don't I, Mary?"

Mary turned to Lucas. "He was just making his marriage proposal memorable. I'll think about talking to Darwin, okay, Lucas? I'm trying to give all of Tim's friends their due first."

"Darwin _is_ Tim's friend. Before he met you, he talked to Darwin more than anyone else."

"Thanks, Lucas," Tim muttered. It wasn't that Lucas had any new dirt on Tim that Mary didn't know. She knew practically everything because she'd been in his head so much. Still, it was an embarrassing point to voice right in front of her.

She leaned toward Lucas without getting close enough to touch. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: "Before I met Tim, _I_ talked to inanimate objects."

"Oh," Lucas said, "I didn't mean it in a bad way. I talk to Darwin more than humans too."

"So how was your date from the auction?" Mary asked, effectively changing the subject.

"It was pretty good, actually. Teika's a robotic engineer and she knew a great sushi place. She even gave me her number."

"Oooo," Tim said with a teasing inflection, but it wasn't nearly the razz he used to dish out before he got engaged. But back then, he got his fair share in return. Now he was immune and he tried to be sensitive to anyone in that horrible single situation.

Lucas looked down at his watch. "Hey, sorry, but I gotta split. I promised Hitchcock I'd do some work on Project Calypso today."

"Thanks for coming, Lucas," Mary said.

"No problem. Lemme know if you want to meet Darwin."

"I'll do that. See you in email."

Lucas bolted out, no doubt itching to play with that fancy computer design interface. He'd either assumed mentioning it was classified and Mary not cleared, or he'd been embarrassed about his rather odd proclivity for computers.

When the door shut, he turned to Mary. "Well, you up for going out to lunch with me?" Turning down lunch with three strangers and Wendy was a lot different than just him.

She winked. "Eating lunch with you is great, but let's forget the 'out' part and order room service back at the hotel."

"You're on."


	52. Chapter 75 Leaving Pearl

**Chapter 75**

Nathan called Admiral Noyce the minute he got back to _seaQuest_ after his meeting with Commander Ford and Mika Wise.

"Someone needs to find out why Franklin Wise has dropped off the grid, Admiral."

Bill Noyce rolled his eyes. "He probably crawled under a rock to die."

Nathan shook his head. "I don't think so. He was corresponding with that woman he called his daughter, Mika. His emails stopped without warning just after she told the wrong people how old he was."

The admiral sighed. "So he didn't tell her he was dying. It happens. This is not our problem."

"Oh, really? Without Ms. Wise, our gill technology would be as far behind as the Amazonian's. We owe him for that."

The older man shrugged. "He faked his death and went into hiding. He doesn't want our help."

"I went into hiding too, if you'll remember. You kidnapped my dolphin and practically pushed me into command."

"We needed you," his old friend said. The lines in his face softened.

"Yeah, and I didn't know it at the time, but I needed you, too."

"Ha! You were kicking and screaming the whole way. Swearing too, if I remember correctly."

Nathan let his lips curl upwards slightly. "But you didn't let that stop you."

"This is different, Nathan. Dr. Wise is a private citizen and he's made it clear he doesn't take kindly to trespassers. Or have you forgotten what he almost did to Commander Ford?"

The captain shook his head. "Does it help to know that Ford agrees with me?"

The admiral's brow lifted. He waited for more information.

"Let's put it this way, Bill: Franklin Wise has successfully engineered humans who can not only breathe underwater, but who can survive at depths that crush most of the submarines on this planet. You want our enemies to have hundreds of thousands of soldiers with that capability?"

"Okay, okay. I see your point. But why _seaQuest_? You're not even in the right ocean."

Nathan scoffed. "You know as well as I do that it doesn't take that long to get to the Atlantic. I can go under the polar ice and be there in sixteen hours."

"The UEO has other subs, you know."

"How many of them know where Abalon is?"

"None, at the moment. _You're_ the one who insisted it be kept top secret."

"You want to put it on the map? 'One aging genetic engineer with the key to world domination. Lives in a cave with no defenses and only two guards. Up for grabs. Come get him.'" His tone was sarcastic but didn't lose his temper. Bill would come around as soon as he had enough information. Nathan only had trouble getting his point across when it was science-related.

"How soon can you get out of Pearl?"

"Give the order and I'll start recalling crew right now."

Bill nodded. "Done."

"Thank you, Admiral."

"One thing, Captain..."

Nathan eyed him for a few silent seconds.

"If you find him alive, you need to take him into protective custody. We didn't put him on the map. His 'daughter' did. But we can't leave him out there with what he knows."

The captain acknowledged with a sigh and a nod. "Understood. Bridger out."

He picked up his PAL. "Commander Ford and Dr. Westphalen to the Ward Room."

"Aye, sir," Ford answered immediately.

"On my way," Kristin said right after him. They'd both been waiting while he made the vid-link call to the admiral.

They arrived together in less than a minute. If he didn't know better, he might have thought they were waiting with their ears pressed against the hatch.

"Admiral Noyce agreed. We leave as soon as we have the personnel we need." He faced his wife. "Science personnel are welcome, but not essential. Put out the word we're leaving, but we won't wait for anyone."

"What about Mika?" Kristin asked.

"She's science as far as I'm concerned. It's up to her."

Ford crossed his arms over his chest. "She's already checked out of her hotel."

"That's some confidence she has in you, Commander," Kristin said.

He dropped his arms and shook his head. "I told her Captain Bridger usually gets what he wants."

_Sheesh, now I'm a pushover_.

"Except when he's asking for money," Kristin said in that 'don't let your head swell up' tone she obviously meant for him. She was looking at Ford, but her eyes flashed a covert twinkle at Nathan.

Ford shrugged and answered the doctor, "He got that too, just from a different source."

"Damn," Nathan hissed under his breath. "Hitchcock. I promised her I'd come check in on Project Calypso."

"I'm sure she'll understand emergency orders," Kristin said.

"Uh, Captain?" The commander's face was uncharacteristically grimaced.

"What is it?" Nathan asked.

"How hard would it be to get Hitchcock on Reserve time now? Kendall requested a five-day pass and I approved it. He's at some big engineering convention in Denver. His _skyQuest_ designs are up for at least twelve awards. We don't have our Chief Engineer."

Nathan couldn't be angry at Kendall or Ford. That design of Kendall's _was_ brilliant and Nathan wouldn't have hesitated to send him off for some well-deserved recognition when _seaQuest_ was supposed to be sitting in port for even longer than that. The thought of having Hitchcock back on _seaQuest_ caused a grin from ear to ear. "She's already put in her time on the Juno mission, but I'll ask her if she wants to tag along." He stiffened his back and addressed Ford more formally. "Recall all Navy personnel effective immediately, Commander."

"Aye, sir."

"Let me know as soon as we have enough people to man all stations."

A curt nod. "I'll keep you apprised."

No one was ever happy to leave Hawaii, but to have shore leave in Pearl Harbor abruptly rescinded would drive even the most dedicated submariners to grumble a little. They wouldn't be human if they weren't upset. Everyone made the best of it and Dr. Smith reported 'mostly good vibes' amidst the understandable irritation. She made a special request on behalf of herself and O'Neill to attend Miss Watkins' Confirmation. Father Baker moved it up to immediate and performed it on base so that the two of them attending didn't delay _seaQuest_'s departure. The doctor and lieutenant were only gone an hour and ready for duty long before Shan and Brody made it back from their little surfing expedition on the North Shore.

Hitchcock agreed to put in some more Reserve time, but she requested that Henderson be allowed to stay behind. She'd been working at Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns and Katie had been impressed with her engineering savvy. The seaman was no substitute for Katie, of course, but allowing her to work with Ben and Jarvis meant there would be less down-time on Calypso. Henderson could hammer out the mundane details of less-sensitive systems so Katie wouldn't have to later. Since Shan and Hitchcock were both more than competent at helm, Nathan didn't worry about _seaQuest_ missing Henderson too much.

"Granted," he told Katie.

"Thank you, Captain. You know she's been studying up for a possible go at OCS."

He'd forgotten she'd mentioned something about that on the last tour, while they were imprisoned by a madman, if he wasn't mistaken. He studied the lieutenant commander. "Do you think she's officer material?"

"Sir, if Ben could be an officer back in 2016, that's rather a moot point, isn't it?"

He chuckled. "Maybe so, but Mr. Krieg seems to have grown up a little since then, hasn't he?"

She nodded. "He may not have been a great soldier, but he's one hell of a CFO. I'd be lost without him."

He could see the sincerity in her eyes and he sensed it wasn't romantically motivated. "_We'd_ be lost, Commander. It's _Bridger _Hitchcock SeaDesigns and I'm certainly not doing _my_ fair share to keep this project afloat."

She smiled, her ice blue eyes sparking fire. "No need. A submarine is _supposed_ to sink."

He offered his hand and she accepted it. "I'm glad to have you back aboard _seaQuest_. Do be careful though. There've probably been _hundreds_ of changes over the old one."

She laughed. "Good one, sir."

They pulled away from Pearl within thirty-six hours of the recall. At least twenty of the civilian scientists missed the boat, but Dr. Westphalen didn't think it was anyone critical to the mission. Another fourteen enlisted men didn't make it back either, but all the officers and bridge crew besides Henderson had made it. Even Petty Officer Piccolo was back in uniform, sober, and fit for duty.

The captain stood behind his command chair and addressed the bridge. "Sorry to cut the vacation short, ladies and gentlemen, but we've got a job to do. Commander Ford, chart us a course for the Bering Sea, but keep us out of the main sea lanes. I want to open her up full speed once we clear the channel."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Ortiz, deploy all WSKRS and keep us from running anyone over in our haste."

"Aye, Captain." He flipped some switches. "WSKRS deployed. All sensors online."

Lucas sat at his station, dressed in his science department uniform. He even appeared to have visited a barber recently. Nathan would have to rib Kristin later over the fact he'd kept so well out of trouble even without her hovering over his auction date. "Mr. Wolenczak, dig through the emails Miss Wise has supplied us and see what you can find."

"What am I looking for?"

"Dr. Franklin Wise."

"But don't we already know where he is? Abalon?"

"We don't know if he's there or not, but if he's gone, he may not have gone by choice. If you can get into his emails, see if anyone else has been nosing about his business, electronically or otherwise."

Lucas nodded. "I'm on it, Captain."

"Mr. O'Neill, I want you to try hailing Dr. Wise's last known radio frequency every hour until we hit the Atlantic."

The lieutenant typed on his computer, no doubt refreshing his memory what that radio frequency had been. "Captain, his radio was far too old to be able to pick us up at this distance."

"I'm aware of that. Run pingback scans to see if anyone else is monitoring his frequency and notify me immediately if you detect anything."

"Aye, sir." One hand flipped toggles on his station while the other one pressed the headset earpiece against his ear. He spoke into his mic, keeping his face turned aside and his voice low so he wouldn't interfere with anyone else's orders or conversations.

"I have a course plotted, Captain," Ford announced.

Nathan took a step toward Ford's station and glanced at his computer screen to see the graphic of the plot overlaid on a map of the north Pacific. There wasn't a single thing Nathan would have changed. "Very well, Commander. Get us out of here."

Jonathan Ford smiled for a fraction of a second before he composed himself, took a breath, and barked out the bearing, speed, and depth orders to Shan, who relayed them to the helm and engine room.

Nathan eased into the captain's chair and listened to the purr of _seaQuest_'s engines as they hummed to life. They were on their way now.


	53. Chapter 76

**Chapter 76**

Lucas frowned at his computer screen. "Captain, you may want to have a look at this." He knew the captain preferred to have reports given orally on the bridge, but with what Lucas was dredging up, he would rather let the captain take a look before he blurted out sensitive information for everyone to hear. The problem was going to be making him "see" more than just raw data.

Captain Bridger stepped up to his station and leaned over his shoulder. "What have you got?"

Lucas cleared his throat. "This is Mika's email account. You said she _gave_ us the password, right?" He fingered the slip of paper he'd been handed, which contained her vid-cell numbers for work and personal as well as all her email information.

"Yes."

Lucas lowered his voice a little. "Did she mention ever giving her password to anyone else?"

"No." The captain straightened and turned to Commander Ford. Lucas followed his gaze. Ford had that look on his face that belied he'd heard everything so far, but he'd pretend otherwise if you asked him. The captain used a casual expression when he asked, "Did Miss Wise say anything to you about giving anyone else her password?"

"Negative, Captain. She's down in Medbay if you want to question her yourself."

"Thank you, Commander. I may do that." He leaned over Lucas' shoulder again and lowered his voice. "Why do you want to know about her password?"

Lucas pointed to his monitor. "Because her email has been monitored by dozens of people all over the world." He pointed to IP addresses as he interpreted the numbers in a whisper: "Tehran. Bogotá. Pyongyang. Sydney. Beijing. Moscow. An undersea colony south of Sri Lanka." Not even Lucas could pronounce the name of it. He hadn't yet looked up the more obscure ones, but he could tell they weren't anywhere in the UEO. He gave a hopeless wave over the rest.

Captain Bridger stroked his chin. "And the log-in times are too close for it to have been one person traveling around a lot."

"Yes, sir. Not to mention, look at the number of times they've accessed her account." He typed a few commands and brought up a page showing all the log-ins. There were lines and lines of these foreign IP addresses, sprinkled with the very occasional log-ins from Woods Hole, presumably from Mika herself.

"Can you tell me who any of these hackers _are_?"

Lucas sighed heavily. "Maybe. But it's going to take some time and it's probably going to turn out to be bogus Internex accounts."

"All right. Keep digging. Can you tell if anyone sent any emails pretending to be either Dr. Wise or Mika?"

Lucas shook his head. "No. It looks like they just read the archives."

"Do any of them realize how many others are watching?"

"You mean, how hard was it for me to pull up this page?" He nodded at his screen with all the juicy info on it.

The captain nodded.

"This isn't regular account stuff. You don't get this with just a password."

"So it's possible at least some of these people think they're alone in their interest."

Lucas pointed to the password on the slip of paper: Abalon. "Six letters and no numbers. I could have hacked her in Kindergarten."

"Yes, but since when do hackers not _do_ anything with an account they've cracked? No spam sent. No chain letters. No making the welcome screen say, 'Ha, ha, you're pwned.'"

Lucas bit his lips to keep from laughing at the archaic jargon. Although it was hilarious to hear him say it that way, he had a good point. If you went to the trouble of hacking, you always claimed the victory, even if in a benign way, like changing the wallpaper. "Yeah, they didn't want to do anything that might make her change that easy password."

"Can you send an email from her address, but make it look like it came from Woods Hole and not _seaQuest_?"

He smirked. "Does Darwin like fish?"

Captain Bridger gave him a playful pat on the back. "Good. I'll let you know what to say once we get a better idea who might be listening."

"I'm on it."

The captain left the upper level of stations. Miguel gave Lucas one of his 'good going' shoves in the shoulder. There was no way the sensor chief could have heard much of what he'd reported with his headphones on and with all the WSKRS data he was monitoring. He was just guessing Lucas had found something useful by the captain's reaction.

The teen took a second to look around. He tended to get so engrossed in his computer that he didn't notice what anyone else was doing. Captain Bridger and Commander Ford were having a little whispered conference without benefit of computer screens. Tim was busy talking in a language Lucas didn't recognize, but he was also talking too softly to be heard very well. Tony was in one of the helm stations and Will was teaching him something or other. It struck Lucas that Will had a lot of patience and Tony was genuinely trying.

Brody was doing something, but aside from situations where weapons or tactics were needed, Lucas wasn't all that sure what Brody did. He had attracted the attention of Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock, who seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in noting his blunders, the way she used to with Ben. Maybe it was her job to harass lieutenants? Yet, she all but ignored Tim.

_Oh,_ _Katie_. Lucas knew she and Ben were trying to get back together, and he knew she was too old for an eighteen-year-old, even a genius, but Lucas had never fully gotten over his first tour crush. He still dreamed of her in bathing suits every now and then and it had only gotten worse since seeing her in that tight vinyl outfit on Juno. There was no denying she was hot, smart, and gutsy. He wasn't going to make any kind of 'move' on Ben's woman, but he was a red-blooded adolescent male and he couldn't help but indulge an occasional fantasy. If it wasn't for the fact she thought of him like a kid brother, he might have more trouble keeping those fantasies in check. Regardless, he _liked_ having her back on _seaQuest_.

Undoubtedly, though, she made Brody squirm. Just no other way to describe it. Lucas had never seen the usually-cocky lieutenant so… unraveled. He kept hitting the wrong keys on his computer, he dropped his pen on the floor twice, and he tripped walking across the bridge to check some readout. He had no trouble reporting to the captain, but when Hitchcock asked him a question, he kept stumbling over his words. Maybe it was because he was married that he suddenly was unsettled with a woman superior officer. Or maybe he also remembered too well what Lady Katerina was like. Whatever the reason, Brody was _intimidated_. Lucas forced himself to look away before anyone could see him fighting laughter.

He dove back into the Internex. Surely some of the hackers had been careless enough he'd find some real names among all the bogus accounts. It's not like cracking an easy password was much of a crime to worry about. Mika wasn't some high level politician using a secure site. She was just a random citizen who hadn't taken many precautions. Reading her emails wouldn't even get the hacker arrested. Heck, most probably wouldn't even lose their Internex service providers over something this petty.

However, Captain Bridger was clearly worried something more than a minor breach of privacy had occurred here. They didn't tear out of Pearl six days early, push _seaQuest_ to top speed through the north Pacific, and go ripping under the Arctic ice over some homey notes to dad. If someone did intend harm to Franklin Wise, he'd probably care a lot more about hiding his email snooping. Well, maybe.

_Lucas_ would hide _his_ snooping no matter what. It was a matter of pride to him. He didn't hack to prove he could do it, to "pwn" someone, as the captain had put it. Nor did he ever do it for personal gain. He did it because he believed in the UEO and in Captain Bridger. Even though he'd been given Mika's password, he'd still used a sweeper program to hide his tracks while digging around her ISP records. Hiding one's electronic "trail" was just being tidy and professional. and while he may not always have been tidy in his personal quarters, he was nothing if not a pro.

However, Lucas recognized just because _he_ did some things a certain way, with a high level of diligence, didn't mean average people did. Therefore, checking out any lead would be important. You never could tell what trick might land a jackpot of information. He'd leave no stone unturned and make sure his report was as thorough as humanly possible.

He didn't notice the passage of time while his attention was on the task, but at some point, he did hear the captain's voice, as if coming from across some great barrier, hazy and weak.

"Lucas?"

He blinked hard and shook his head. Memory kicked in and revealed the captain had tried to call him 'Mr. Wolenczak' before he was paying attention. This was his third or possibly fourth attempt to break through the fog of his concentration. The teen had trouble focusing his eyes on the captain, indeed on anything beyond his computer monitor. But even a blurry look around the bridge proved at least half of those who'd been there when they left Pearl were now missing.

"Uh, sorry, Captain. I was concentrating."

"I can see that. Are you tired?"

Lucas ran his hand over his face and through his short hair. "No. Not really. I want to keep working on this."

"All right, but after you take a break. Get some chow. Take a swim. After that, if you still want to go back to it, go ahead. If not, we'll see you at the staff meeting at zero nine hundred."

His first impulse was to argue. He didn't _need_ a break and he didn't need to be told to eat, like some two-year-old. He opened his mouth to protest, but clamped it shut in the next nanosecond. Miguel had left the bridge and Lucas hadn't noticed, even though he'd been right next to him. Whining over this would make him look more like a child than just accepting the gesture for what it was: a favor extended out of genuine concern. He stood. "Thanks. I think I will. Is Tony off-duty, or is there a chance I could work in my quarters?"

Dr. Smith had counseled extensively with Kyle between Juno and Pearl, and then transferred his care to another psychologist in Hawaii. Tony would get his bunk back now that Kyle was no longer aboard, which was fortunate, because Hitchcock needed the guest quarters. Lucas started down from the upper tier of work stations, toward where the captain stood.

"He was headed to Medbay to have a chat with Dr. Westphalen and Miss Wise, but he's off duty, yes. Is it a problem to work on the bridge?"

Problem? No, Lucas couldn't call it a problem. It was just having to wear the uniform instead of something more comfortable. Plus, the fact he couldn't keep a liter of soda on the bridge didn't help. "I was thinking about pulling an all-nighter."

"I'd rather you didn't just yet. I may need your skills later in the mission."

That seemed logical. He shouldn't be hyping up on caffeine just to do some routine data digging. If he couldn't work without soda, then perhaps he _did_ need rest. "Okay. We'll see how I feel after eating."

"Fair enough."

Lucas started to haul his tired butt out the clamshell doors, but he stopped and looked back. "Thanks." _Thanks for caring enough to look out for me, but even more for letting me decide for myself. _He didn't voice his corny thoughts.

"Hey, everyone needs to eat and sleep, pal." The captain closed the distance between them and lowered his voice. "You're doing great. You know that, right?"

He nodded. He didn't want anyone else to know how much the praise meant to him, but it did make him feel good inside. He hoped the look in his eyes communicated what he couldn't bring his mouth to say.

* * *

_**Author Note: Yes, it's been a while. No one was more distressed over this than I. I started this thread with no clue where to go, hoping something would come to me, but it didn't. My muse didn't cooperate. For those of you who thought I'd abandoned the story, no, I didn't plan to. Thank you for your patience.**_

_**While looking for inspiration, I read through all my old stories. In the process, I converted both Redemption and Hard Time to eBook formats (Kindle and Nook). They're available for free download if anyone is interested. The URL is on my profile.**_


	54. Chapter 77

**Chapter 77**

Kristin had two gilled humans in Medbay and she could barely contain her excitement. Mika had been on _seaQuest_ before, but she hadn't been a patient. Kristin had the authority as CMO to order Piccolo to submit to an examination, but neither of them were there to be poked, prodded, or put under her microscope. Really a shame she couldn't sedate them, lay them prone, side-by-side, and conduct comparative studies on their gills. She wouldn't, of course. But that didn't change the fact she wanted to.

Instead, she contented herself with asking questions and encouraging the two of them to 'compare notes' on their abilities and experiences, while she recorded everything. Piccolo was flattered to have the beautiful stranger interested in his unique gifts. "Most chicks think they're gross," he said.

"Oh, I don't find them 'gross'. Of course, I never lived without them, so I don't know what it's like to be like everyone else."

The petty officer used one hand to shield his mouth when he whispered, "Does the commander know?"

Mika smiled and nodded. "He was the _first_ to know."

Piccolo sighed with a defeated look on his face.

Kristin cleared her throat and peered at him over the top of her reading glasses. "If I didn't know better, I might think you were attracted to Miss Wise."

He hesitated, probably flustered that she had him pegged so well and thrown off his game plan. Rather than admit defeat, he returned his attention to Mika. "Where else am I gonna find a chick with gills?" He waggled his brows and flashed her one of his charming smiles.

When she didn't smile back or react in any way to his obvious come-on, he held up both hands defensively. "But, hey, I ain't dumb enough to hone in on Commander Ford's territory. No way, José."

Mika shook her head in confusion. "Territory?" She looked at Tony first and then at Kristin.

"Wasn't that you at the auction?" Tony asked.

Kristin was surprised he'd paid attention to anyone else's bidders.

"Yes, he owed me a trip to the ballet," Mika said, although it was apparent she didn't see the connection.

Kristin saw the light of opportunity flare in the petty officer's eyes and the charm smile spread over his face again. She raised her hand in a stop gesture and put on her lecture voice to talk to him. "He still owes her that trip to the ballet and I think your instincts about territory were right on."

Mika's brows knit and she shook her head again. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

Kristin straightened her back and removed her reading glasses. "Honorable gentlemen, like Mr. Piccolo here, will back off from romantically pursuing a lovely woman if another man has already shown interest. You and Commander Ford are interested in one another, yes?"

Mika smiled, but it was pure and innocent, devoid of the possessiveness most women would display. "Oh, I like Jonathan very much."

"Then we say you're 'spoken for', not unlike the way explorers lay claim to territory," Kristin explained. She wanted to help Mika understand the expression and avoid awkward situations rather than make any commentary on the sometimes-barbaric jargon people applied to their relationships. The important thing was for Piccolo to back off and for her to realize she needed to communicate her status to others.

"Does this mean he's my boyfriend?"

The poor woman probably spent the majority of her time with scientists who never bothered to explain the finer points of societal customs, but she'd been living on land long enough she wasn't totally ignorant. Kristin was beginning to wish she'd called Wendy in here to help her.

"You should talk about this with Jonathan, Mika. You decide these things together."

Mika nodded. A quick glance at Piccolo revealed he'd dropped the charm smile and his eyes no longer held that flicker of pursuit. Lucas was right. Tony wasn't as dumb as people thought.

"I don't think your gills are 'gross' either," Kristin said consolingly. "And you had no trouble garnering bids at the bachelor auction. How was your date, by the way?"

"It was one of them chicks from Juno," he said with a grin. A rather large grin, actually.

"I thought I recognized her." The doctor was extremely curious, but she didn't push any of the men under her husband's command to talk about their personal lives, especially in Medbay, where they might assume they didn't have the right to refuse her questions. "May I presume that grin means it went well?"

"Oh yeah."

She patted his shoulder. "Good."

They did manage to talk about their gills most of the time, but Tony's eyes glazed over when the discussion turned to the depth problem. Their scientific talk was obviously over his head, but he really did try hard to be patient and courteous.

"You don't have to stay down here, Mr. Piccolo," Kristin said. "Thank you for your help."

His brows twitched, like he'd been shocked he'd been any help to them, but he did evidence relief in his dismissal. "No prob, Doc. Hey, Mika, you wanna come swim with Darwin and me? It's a lot less crowded than the gym."

"Maybe later, Tony. Thank you."

Kristin and Mika resumed their scientific discussion, now unhindered by trying to keep it in layman's terms. Although her work on _seaQuest_ was always stimulating, it had been a long time since Kristin had felt so excited about a research topic. Piccolo would have to consent to any modifications they might conceive, but Kristin felt sure Mika was close to a breakthrough. If she stayed on _seaQuest_ after finding her father, she and Kristin would soon have Tony doing very deep dives.

Their conversation had been so engrossing, Kristin couldn't say how long it had been when Lucas turned up in Medbay. He looked tired.

"Any luck finding my father?" Mika asked.

He sighed and shook his head. "Not really. But there have been a lot of hackers watching your emails."

"H-Hackers?" she said uncertainly.

"People who break into computer accounts."

Her eyes went wide. "Why would anyone do that?"

He shot a look at Kristin, who knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to tell Mika anything that would scare her unnecessarily.

"We don't know. It may not be related to Dr. Wise's disappearance. We're just checking everything."

"I thought email was private and safe."

Lucas cringed. "Well, normally it is. But you should probably try a harder password for starters. Use random letters with numbers mixed in and make it longer."

"But we never talked about anything secret in our mails."

"Maybe someone was hoping you would."

"Do you know who it was?"

"Not all of them. All I have are locations."

"Can you tell me where? Maybe I can help you figure out who it is."

Her suggestion perked Lucas up. He glanced at the computer terminal and shot a questioning look at Kristin.

"I don't need it right now. Go ahead." She smiled warmly at him. They hadn't connected in several days and she missed him.

He slid behind the screen like a racer getting behind the steering wheel of his race car. A few clicks and some typed commands and he had whatever he was looking for. He turned the flat screen around. "There. I put them all on a map."

Mika stepped forward and studied the screen intently, her graceful features marred by the revelation of so many strangers snooping in her private mails. Kristin would have been horrified too. This wasn't just a couple of people with idle curiosity. This was a _lot_ of people, from all over the globe.

One pinpoint of light caught the doctor's eye. She blinked. It couldn't be what she thought. She took a step closer. Mika scooted to the side, so they could share the screen.

"What is it?" Mika asked.

Kristin knew her face was betraying her, but she couldn't control it. Her heart started beating faster.

"What is it, Doctor?" Lucas asked.

She didn't turn to look at him, but she could hear the concern in his voice.

Kristin planted her fingernail against a single red dot on the map. It was in the Indian Ocean, just south of Sri Lanka. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."

Lucas's brows slanted and he studied where her finger pointed. "Uh, it's a minor undersea colony. Just a sec." The dot wasn't marked on the screen, and he evidently didn't know off-hand what the name of it was.

Kristin knew, but she didn't want to be right.

"It's a penal colony. I can't pronounce the name. Some bored inmate with nothing better to do."

"No," Kristin said firmly.

Lucas couldn't believe she contradicted him. He stared at her with wide eyes.

"That's Bladachuspiat Center for the Incorrigible," she said in an ominous tone, but of course, Lucas had never heard of it. Why should he be as concerned as she was?

"Doc?" The kid was bewildered.

Mika's hand arrived on her shoulder, but she hardly felt it.

Kristin took a deep breath. "That's the facility where they took the cryo-chamber holding Dr. Rueben Zellar."

Lucas gasped. "Coincidence. He's a popsicle."

"Was," she corrected. "They outlawed cryogenic storage as an involuntary penalty. He has to live out his sentence."

"Aren't there others there, too?" Lucas asked. "This could be anyone doing the hacking."

"It's him," Kristin said. She didn't give them any proof. There wasn't any. She just _knew_. Numb and scared and furious all at the same time, she finally forced her muscles to move her face so she could see Lucas. "Is the captain on the bridge?"

"Yeah, at least he was when I left about a half-hour ago."

"Who is Reuben Zellar?" Mika asked.

Lucas whispered, "A lunatic mass murderer we pulled out of an arctic prison. He killed the warden and traded places with him. He also killed Dr. Westphalen's brother."

"We underestimated him once. It's _not_ happening again," Kristin said flatly. "Lucas, will you please see Mika to her quarters? I've got to go to the bridge."

She didn't wait for his answer, nor did she bother with polite goodbyes. She could feel both of them staring at her, but she didn't care. She ran out of Medbay.


	55. Chapter 78

**Chapter 78**

Nathan knew he didn't _need_ to be on the bridge. He had complete confidence in Commander Ford and other than their hasty departure, this trip had been rather uneventful. However, the commander appeared a bit more tired than usual. He'd spent a good deal of time with Miss Wise while they were in Pearl, both in gathering information and helping her get ready to board _seaQuest_.

And even if Ford needed to sleep, there was Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock. True, she wasn't completely familiar with the second _seaQuest_, but she'd brushed up enough to be competent. What she may have lacked in familiarity with this new boat, she definitely made up for in absolute proficiency as an officer. Nathan didn't know how much he'd missed that until he saw her in a _seaQuest_ coverall, jumping back into the fray like she'd never left. She even had Brody on edge, something both he and Commander Ford found quite amusing, though both of them did their best to hide it.

When Brody went off duty, Hitchcock sidled up to Ford and whispered, "Can you schedule me to be on watch when he is?"

"Why?" Ford asked.

"Am I imagining things, or is he a bit full of himself?"

Ford laughed, quickly covering it with a cough. "Nothing gets by you, Katie."

"I think you're a good influence on him, Commander," Nathan said. "Schedule request approved."

Ford looked relieved he didn't have to be the one to do this to Brody, although Brody might assume it was him anyway. Nathan didn't care. It was too amusing to pass up and he wasn't lying about Brody getting some good out of it. Actually, his wife back home would probably benefit as well.

While Nathan would have felt completely comfortable giving the bridge to Hitchcock, she should get some sleep if she was going to become the new pain in Brody's butt. She'd been living as a civilian for quite a while and Nathan didn't want to push her into long shifts when there was no need. Nathan had dismissed Ford and Hitchcock at the same time, approximately six hours ago.

Truthfully, the captain could have given the bridge to O'Neill without worry too. He could handle most anything and he wasn't too proud to call for help if he needed it. However, he was staying on duty because of the pingback scans Nathan had ordered and it was probably not a good idea for him to be in command while working so intently on the scans. Not because he couldn't do it, but because it was spreading him thin and the scans were more important.

Besides, it was primarily his own restlessness that had spurred Nathan to remain on the bridge himself.

At least he'd convinced Lucas to take a break. He really hoped the kid would go to bed, but he was trying hard to treat him like an adult and not enforce a bedtime. When presented with a choice, he had chosen to eat and rest because it was logical and practical. It remained to be seen whether he would come back to work after a short break, or whether he'd give in to sleep. As long as he'd taken a break, it didn't matter.

Nathan seemed to remember having almost boundless energy like that when he and Scott Keller were that age. Man, what he wouldn't give to have that kind of energy back. Instead, he was running on insomnia and a twinge of foreboding he couldn't shake. It was irrational, he knew, but Dr. Smith agreed his instincts were important to listen to, even if he couldn't understand what they were saying. His last exchange with Franklin Wise kept replaying in his mind:

_It doesn't have to be this way._

_Oh yes, Captain, yes it does._

"This way" was contention and distrust. Wise faked his death back in 1953 and ran away in order to continue his outlawed research and reinvent mankind according to his own vision. Was Nathan that much different? He'd played the hide-from-society game after Carol's death. And very recently, he'd used "outlawed" knowledge from the future and he'd threatened an alien race with the self-destruct of _seaQuest_, using syntium missiles he'd always considered immoral. All to change history to fit _his_ private vision.

Of course, Nathan didn't approve of Wise kidnapping Ford and attempting to alter anatomy against the commander's wishes, but if Ford could get past it, who was he to hold a grudge? Apparently Mika had forgiven the man for whatever came between them. Nathan suspected their argument was mainly her leaving him for the world "uptop," as he called it. Once he capitulated and let her go, she warmed up to him again. They'd evidently been exchanging emails for quite some time.

No matter how convinced the naïve young lady might be that her "father" was the victim of foul play, Nathan wasn't so sure. He'd faked his death once before. There was no reason he couldn't do it again. Ford said he had an old sub, presumably something he'd maintained since 1953. Given that diesel fuel was no longer available in his little hermitage, he must have converted the engines to a different power source. If he could power that sub without land resources in 2018, he could still power it now and go anywhere in the oceans he pleased.

Nathan really hoped that was what this was. Maybe Wise found out how many people were tracking his emails and he picked up and ran. If his old sub was discovered missing when they got there, chances were he'd engineered another disappearance.

Mika would be understandably upset, but this was better than the alternative. Nathan had orders to take Dr. Wise into custody if he found him. While it was probably safer both for Wise and the UEO (to keep his research out of the wrong hands), Nathan was pretty sure the man wouldn't go willingly, which meant Nathan would end up removing him by force, not a proposition he looked forward to.

He'd been sitting in the command chair to keep from pacing, but he decided to stand up and stretch. The bridge was relatively empty now. Only O'Neill and Shan were left of those who'd been on duty during their launch. Ortiz had given his seat to a replacement, CPO Ludden. He wasn't quite as good as Ortiz, but he was competent enough to make sure they didn't hit anything as they ripped through the Arctic Ocean.

Piccolo and the other three helm operators had gone off duty and replacements had shown up. Nathan felt a flicker of regret at leaving Henderson behind, but quite a bit less than he should have. If he could permanently trade Henderson for Hitchcock without losing any time on Project Calypso, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He knew better than to ever voice something like that, and he was a little ashamed he'd thought of it, but there was no denying the truth.

However, keeping Hitchcock wasn't in the realm of possibility. He should just be thankful the brilliant heiress was building his submarine and at his beck and call for short term emergencies like this one. To hope for any more when she wanted to start a family was just selfish on his part.

Nathan took a leisurely stroll around the bridge. Everyone was busy, but their work was pretty routine. Except for those pingback scans. O'Neill removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, cleaned his lenses, and replaced them on his face.

The captain leaned over the lieutenant's shoulder. "How's it going?"

"I've got three signals I've been tracking, but I can't identify any of the sources yet."

"Keep trying."

"Aye, sir."

He didn't need the reminder. The communications officer was rather obsessive that way. He probably wouldn't sleep any better than Nathan would even if he _did_ go off duty now. May as well let him do what he did best.

A large figure shadowed the opening of the double clamshell doors. Dagwood. He stood there, timidly waiting for someone to notice him and either send him away or give him permission to enter. He rarely asked. He just waited.

"It's all right. You can come in," Nathan said with a beckoning wave.

Dagwood nodded and pulled in a mop. He cleaned around people while they were working, almost invisible. Odd how someone as big as he was could keep out of the way so well. Nathan would bet if he left the bridge and waited fifteen minutes, half of these people would have no recollection he'd even been there.

Kristin was right to insist he shouldn't be taken advantage of. He might be a little slow mentally, but he'd saved their hides more than once and he was fiercely loyal. Nathan tried to interact with him when he could, not only to show his genuine appreciation, but to be an example to some of the others who still hadn't warmed up to him because he was a GELF.

"Dagwood, did you get a chance to meet the new faces we have aboard? Commander Hitchcock left the bridge a little while ago. Mika Wise is down in Medbay with Dr. Westphalen."

"I didn't meet uh... M-M-Mika yet, but I met the lady commander before, when Lucas came home. She's nice."

_Hitchcock, nice?_ "You'd better not mention that to Lieutenant Brody."

"He doesn't like her?" His camo-printed face twisted up with confusion and worry.

"Let's just say the lady commander treats each crew member exactly as they need to be treated." Brody needed taking down a peg or two. That was easy to see. Nathan was a little surprised Hitchcock had discerned what Dagwood needed and taken the time and effort to give it to him. Then again, Lucas might have had something to do with that. The thought of Lucas brought a smile. He was either in bed by now or swimming with Darwin—both places preferable to poring over a computer.

"Captain, I got a fix on one of the pingback signals," O'Neill announced.

Nathan turned away from Dagwood to give his full attention. "Go ahead, Mr. O'Neill."

"East coast of the United States. Southern Florida."

"Can you narrow it down any more than that?"

A ghost of a smile. "Yes, sir." The lieutenant typed on his keyboard and a graphic came up on the main viewscreen. It was a map of Florida with a red light pulsing.

"Miami?"

"Close." O'Neill hit some more keys and the map zoomed in to street level.

"Fort Lauderdale." Now this was finally getting somewhere. Nathan wasn't sure if he was relieved or worried about how close it was to New Cape Quest. On the one hand, this could mean Admiral Noyce had put some people on it and they were monitoring Abalon. Then again, he'd sent _seaQuest_ from the other side of the planet in order to keep from breaking security and telling more people where Abalon was. Furthermore, why hadn't Bill _told_ him if he was going to put his people on this?

"Yes, sir."

"UEO?"

"Not exactly." O'Neill typed again and a data page came up on the screen.

Nathan read it and gasped. "Gen-U-Flect? But…"

A photograph of the complex came into focus on the screen. It wasn't the crumbling, dilapidated building with cracking asphalt and weeds growing everywhere that it had been the last time they saw it. He turned back to Dagwood to see if he'd figured out just where this was.

"That was where the dagger that looks like Dagwood hurt Lucas."

"Yes, it is," Nathan conceded evenly. No reason to hide it.

"Didn't he die in the fire?"

"Yes. His DNA matched yours perfectly, which was how they realized _he_ murdered Wilhelm Brown and not you."

Dagwood mouthed "Father" without voice.

Nathan pretended he didn't comprehend. He addressed the bridge in general, but he expected O'Neill would probably be the only one with answers. "Human experimentation was banned in 2004. That building had been abandoned for years when it burned down. Why is Gen-U-Flect rebuilding?"

"Technically, only genetic manipulation for the purpose of creating soldiers was banned by the U.N." O'Neill said, staring straight ahead at the screen with that don't-kill-the-messenger cringe on his face.

Like anyone cared about the U.N. resolution anyway. If a _private_ company like Gen-U-Flect was doing _private_ research without direct government funding, the United States would leave them alone and still maintain 'plausible deniability.' Nathan shook his head and scoffed under his breath, "Don't these people ever _learn_?"

"Learn what?"

Kristin's voice coming from about a foot behind him made him jump.

"Sorry," she said.

Nathan composed himself quickly and waved up at the screen with resentful flip of his wrist. "Gen-U-Flect has been monitoring Dr. Wise's communications."

She crossed her arms over her chest and her brows took on that serious slant. "I have worse news. Lucas punched up the locations of Mika's email snoopers. One of them is Rubin Zellar."

"Zellar? He's loose _again_?"

Her serious face melted into a slight smirk. "Not yet. He's incarcerated at the Bladachuspiat penal colony in the Indian Ocean. They thawed him out, Nathan. It's him. I know it."

"Great. An expert in biological and chemical weapons. That's all we need."

Kristin unfolded her arms and adopted her science voice. "Is there any reason to believe Dr. Wise could have been collaborating with Gen-U-Flect? After all, he _is_ a geneticist. Mika is a Genetically Engineered Life Form, just not like Dagwood."

"Mika is a dagger?" Dagwood asked.

Kristin said "Yes" at the same time as Nathan said "No."

"She doesn't have skin like yours," Kristin explained, "but she does have very different physiology from humans and even from you. Her oxygen needs are lower than yours, which is why she can swim so deep. She has gills like Piccolo."

"Piccolo was transplanted," Nathan said. "That's not the same as genetic engineering."

"True. That's why our scientists haven't been able to duplicate Mika's depth abilities with just transplants. I can imagine Gen-U-Flect would be quite interested in Dr. Wise's research."

_Damn_. And he'd thought all they had to worry about were crazed Amazonians and opportunist Macronesians. "Care to speculate why Zellar would be interested?"

Kristin shuddered.

Nathan reached for her upper arms and held with a firm but gentle touch. Rubin Zellar frightened her more because of what he brought out _in her_ than what he threatened to do.

"He's a madman, Captain. They should have left him in cryogenic freeze."

_Or executed him_. He knew Kristin was thinking it too. "I know. That wasn't my call."

She sighed. "Manipulating people is a _game_ to him. It's possible he was just monitoring Dr. Wise because it amused him to do so, like playing chess with me."

"I can think of a thousand other things to do on the Internex that are more amusing than reading personal letters between," he lowered his voice so Dagwood wouldn't overhear, "a mermaid and her aging father."

"Yes, I'm sure he's got his finger on more than one pulse."

Nathan chuckled. Doctors and their medical analogies. He was peripherally aware of O'Neill typing again. Maybe he was trying to look up information on Zellar or Gen-U-Flect. Nathan didn't allow himself to check while he was trying to help his wife calm down.

Kristin's analytical tone returned. "He'd be looking for a chance to escape, a chance to play his game again. I don't think he'd care who he'd have to get in bed with to do that. He had no qualms about developing horrible weapons. Gen-U-Flect had no qualms playing with human DNA and producing sentient life forms who were shunned and denied basic rights."

"Captain?" O'Neill called. "I have a fix on another one of Dr. Wise's radio monitors."

"Let's see it."

"It's mobile. That's why it was so hard to trace the pingback." The map showed the target in the Pacific, off the coast of South America. They couldn't see it moving, but a data box next to the blip gave her bearing and speed.

"Surface or sub?" Nathan asked.

"Submarine." There was a nervous pause. "Captain, we know this sub." O'Neill swallowed heavily. "I've been _on_ it."

Although he detected some apprehension in the lieutenant's voice, it could have just been a temporary station, like the many relief assignments most of his crew had to endure between the destruction of _seaQuest I_ and the launching of _seaQuest II_. He tried not to read anything into the tone. He kept his voice even when he asked, "What is it?"

"The frequency signature has only one known match. That's the sub Mariah held me prisoner on."

_More GELF connections?_ He didn't like the way so many past adversaries kept turning up. What was next, someone calling from the European Confederation to tell him Milos Tezlof survived execution and was now reading Franklin Wise's emails? He took a breath and stifled his frustration. "Commander Ford will be happy to know we tracked her down. Call him out of bed, Lieutenant."

"Aye, sir." Tim kept a professional expression, but he seemed a bit rattled.

Of course, facing her wasn't an immediate threat because she was so far away and they weren't turning around unless they uncovered evidence she had Wise.

Kristin cleared her throat. "That's not counting all those others Lucas found."

He nodded. "Unfortunately, knowing all these people were monitoring his radio or email still doesn't tell us if anyone _did_ anything with their surveillance. We have three leads in three different oceans and no evidence of any crime besides gradeschool-level hacking."

Kristin pursed her lips and shook her head. She was staring off into space, but not looking at the viewscreen. He didn't have to be a telepath to know she was devising epithets to use if she crossed paths with Zellar.

"When Ford gets here, I'll brief him and then I'm going to bed. How about you?"

"How can you sleep at a time like this?"

He shrugged. "A time like _what_? There's no more immediate danger now than there was an hour ago and we have nothing solid enough to make us change course. As complicated as this is turning out to be, I'd bet my boxers I'll need some sleep reserves eventually, and it looks like now is a relatively safe time to get some."

She heaved a sigh of resignation. "You're right. I'm going to bed too. See you in a bit." She turned and left.

Knowing she would be waiting for him made the prospect of leaving the bridge suddenly a lot more attractive. "Lieutenant, you've been at that for hours. How does sleep sound to you?"

"Welcome."

"Good. Get some. I don't want to see you until zero-nine-hundred."

"Yes, sir." The communications officer wasted no time making himself scarce.

"Ensign?" he called to Shan. "This ride may get bumpy and I want everyone at their peak. You've been standing for over ten hours. Scram." He thumbed over his shoulder.

Shan nodded. "Should I wait for relief?"

"No. Call someone, but I think the commander and I can cover helm until your relief shows up."

"Yes, sir. I'll grab Nevitz on my way out." He removed his headset and disappeared quickly too.

Nathan wondered whether they might be worried Ford would keep them there all night. After all, the thought had crossed his mind, which was why he sent his officers to bed before the XO arrived. He made a mental note to tell Ford not to schedule any double shifts. He'd rather they ran on skeleton crews now if it meant everyone would be well-rested when the fecal pellets hit the fan.

He had a very strong feeling he'd be calling for battlestations before this mission was over.

* * *

_**A/N: I've noticed a drop in interest. I suspect some of it may be due to my long LOA. That's my fault. I can also attribute some to spring fever. That often happens at this time of year. However, if reader interest drops too much, writer interest usually follows. If you're wondering whether I need any encouragement, wonder no more. I do. I'm not asking you to muster up enthusiasm or pretend. All I'm asking is if you feel it, and have the time, share those feelings. It does make a difference to me when the counts are down. Thanks for being the best readers on the planet.**_


	56. Chapter 79

_**A/N: Just to let everyone know: the delays in getting new chapters up has nothing to do with my readers' support. At least not recently. Yes, support DOES help keep me going and I desperately need it. That said, sometimes my muse doesn't cooperate even when I am completely motivated and eager. I am not blaming anyone but myself and I NEVER hold chapters hostage for more reviews. You get them as soon as I write them.**_

_**I should also clarify that at least 75% of the people who responded to my insecure pleading were not the ones I was trying to goad in the first place. I did find a couple of readers who'd been lurking, so I'm not sorry for the plea, but I should have worded it better so the faithful ones didn't feel slighted and overlooked. There are also some I was attempting to reach who I now believe are just no longer reading. That's life. I am saddened and I hope you all know you're missed. If you do ever find your way back, I'd sure like to know. Not much more I can do about that, so I'll stop whining about spilled milk.**_

_**While I have your attention, I'd like to share an article from TIME magazine on writing and reading fanfiction. This is a good one to use as explanation/defense if you ever have to deal with someone who doesn't "get it". http:(double slash)ti(dot)me(slash)qEyXsM ...I didn't write this article, so reply on TIME if you have any remarks about that.**_

_**Hopefully, the next chapter will come faster than the last one. Hopefully.**_

* * *

**Chapter 79**

Lucas hadn't met Mika on the first tour like so many of the crew had. He'd missed the trip to Abalon because it happened on the weekend he made up that cockamamie story about attending a "conference on the phenomenon of post-adolescence" so he could see Juliana. It still made him cringe to remember the whole fiasco. Biff Pickering and his prodding. _"Juliana's gonna be there."_

So he misled the captain to get permission to go, then he made the mistake of telling Ben Krieg to wangle a bit of cologne, and ended up accepting a condom that later fell out of his pocket right in front of Captain Bridger. He never intended to use it. In retrospect, the only smart thing he'd done all night was to keep his pants on. Biff's bogus conference got busted up and Juliana's brother barged right in on Lucas and Juliana, furious even though they were both fully clothed under glaring florescent lights. He didn't want to imagine what her brother might have done if they'd "done something other than nothing".

As if that wasn't enough, it hadn't helped to get caught speeding in the _Stinger_ on the way home to _seaQuest_ either. How could he have been so stupid as to not to make certain he was in an uncontrolled traffic zone before hot-rodding around like some dumb _kid_? He'd lost _Stinger_ privileges for two months over that stupid stunt. But worse than anything else, he'd had to face the captain and endure the loss of trust. Never, _ever_ again would he lie to Captain Bridger. _Nothing_ was worth that look of disappointment in his eyes.

Lucas had done a pretty good job of putting the whole awkward incident out of his mind until he found out the "mythical mermaid" he never got to meet back then was now aboard again. Evidently, she had some kind of thing for Commander Ford or she wouldn't have shown up at the auction. However, Lucas would never had to go digging up information on her if all she'd done was date the commander. Dr. Westphalen had told him a little bit about her when shore leave got cancelled and he'd been curious enough to go look up the old logs to see what happened the last time she was aboard, while he was at the Sanger Institute.

The pressure suit info was still classified, but it wasn't hard to piece things together from the bio he downloaded from Woods Hole. She was a genetically engineered life form, but radically different from Dagwood and the more publicly-known GELFs who had the camouflage-patterned skin. Only her gills would give her away, and hers were no more visible than Tony's. Except for her incredible naïveté, she could probably pass for human easily.

Still, for all his preparation, Lucas was surprised when he met her up close. She was smart and really attractive. However, she was pretty clueless about practical things. _"What's wrong with my password?"_ Come on! Okay, so she was hatched in a test tube and grew up in a secret lab two miles under the ocean, but she'd been on land long enough she should have picked up essential skills by now. Then again, it was less than a year ago that Lucas had used just "Narnia" as his Internex password and that was a lot more well-known than "Abalon". Maybe he was just trying to talk himself out of finding the commander's girl so alluring.

He didn't mind when Dr. Westphalen asked him to walk her to the guest quarters, although he was somewhat concerned over the doctor's discovery that one of Mika's email hackers came from the same facility where they stashed Zellar. That had to be a coincidence. It was one thing to let him out of cryo-freeze, quite another to give him access to computers and the Internex. It had to be someone else, someone from minimum security. No one in their right mind would ever put the psychotic mass-murderer Zellar in that category. Zellar's last warden had had no one else to distract him, no other prisoners to be responsible for, but he'd still ended up dead. The penal officers had to know better by now.

What Zellar really needed was a prison like the one on If Island. Not all the torture and beatings, just the secure facility. Although, if anyone ever deserved having Beauregard as warden, it was Zellar. Those two were meant for each other. Zellar wouldn't be whining about the "unfairness" of cryogenic storage if the alternative was to become Beauregard's inmate.

Lucas left Mika at the entrance to the guest quarters with an open invitation to come swim in the moon pool any time she liked. She thanked him, went inside the room, and shut the hatch behind her.

The young computer analyst turned to walk back down the corridor. He'd already eaten and he'd taken enough of a break that he could go back to the bridge without the captain giving him a hard time. The question was: did he want to? Every new step he took with his now-full stomach made him feel sleepier. A swim with Darwin would probably wake him up, but he was beginning to think sleep might be a better idea.

The lights in his and Tony's quarters were off, but he heard Tony snoring. His roomie didn't snore a lot or even very loudly, at least not enough it would prevent Lucas from sleeping too. Lucas removed his uniform and brushed his teeth. About two dozen thoughts fought for attention in his mind, but most of them could be shelved for the morning. However, he didn't feel like he could sleep before he checked one thing.

In his undershirt and boxers, he sat at the desk and fired up his personal computer. He left all the lights off in the room out of respect for Tony. The monitor would provide enough of its own light to see. It took a few seconds to boot up, but as soon as it was ready, it took almost no time to navigate the Internex to his destination, break an easy firewall, and get exactly what he wanted. He smiled contentedly at the screen, did a quick screen capture, and sent it by email to Dr. Westphalen. Then he backed out of the restricted area he'd hacked, swept his electronic trail, and shut down the computer.

Lucas hopped up on his bed, pulled out his PAL, and beeped the doctor's frequency. She'd been headed to the bridge when they parted, no doubt to tell the captain about Zellar's involvement in all this. While Lucas still couldn't prove it wasn't Zellar that hacked Mika's email, he did have some comforting information to put her mind at ease.

"Dr. Westphalen," she reported through the PAL.

"It's Lucas," he said, although she'd probably seen his ID when she answered.

"Everything all right with Miss Wise?" she asked.

"She's fine. I just thought you might like to know I did a little snooping around that penal facility we talked about. According to their own computer, Dr. Zellar is secure in his cell."

Her voice lowered, like maybe she was still on the bridge and didn't want the captain to hear. "Yes, and when he was on _seaQuest_, we all thought he was safe in the freezer, but he was playing chess with me."

"I thought you might say that," Lucas said, not hiding his satisfaction at knowing her so well. "Which is why I checked the prison's security system. There's a time-stamped photo in your inbox. You know what he looks like now. See for yourself."

"You little sneak."

"You're welcome."

An exasperated sigh escaped her, which Lucas knew accompanied the rolling of her eyes. Even in the dark, with voice-only communication, he could see her clearly in his mind. He was fairly certain she'd go check that photo the first chance she got.

Darwin bumped the aquatube plexiglas with his beak. It wasn't persistent, just a little hello bump. Lucas couldn't see him in the dark, but he wasn't about to ignore his friend. His fingers groped around on the bunk until he found the vocorder. After pressing the proper buttons, he spoke with the same soft voice he'd used on the PAL. "Hey, sorry I didn't come to see you tonight. I had a lot of work to do."

"Lucas sleep?"

"Yes, I'm going to sleep now. I'll try to come see you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Lucas play in morning?"

"I don't know when I might be able to play. It depends on how the meeting goes. Maybe later in the day."

"Tony play?"

"He's asleep now too. I'll tell him you want to play tomorrow, but he's gotta work just like me." He almost said goodnight right then, but another idea hit him. "Darwin, do you remember Mika? She has gills like Tony."

"Mika swim in white skin."

Did that mean she swam in the nude like the captain did on his private island? Yeesh, that was even more distracting than dreaming of Hitchcock in a bathing suit. Lucas tried not to think about it. "So you _do_ remember her, then?"

"Yes."

Lucas had never really tested Darwin's memory and decided it might be a good project when he had the time, but right now he needed to sleep. "Mika is on _seaQuest_. She might play with you tomorrow." If she stripped all her clothes off at the moon pool, he didn't want to know about it. Let someone else tell Commander Ford. On second thought, because she didn't have to come up for air, she could use the aquatubes and cause quite a stir if she swam all over the boat naked. Lucas made a mental note to tell Dr. Smith to have a chat with her before she inadvertently embarrassed herself. "Good night, Darwin."

Darwin still didn't quite grasp the human concept of greetings and farewells. He did know "good night" and "goodbye" both signaled an end to conversation, but rather than return the sentiment, he usually just swam off. Lucas couldn't see in the dark, but he imagined a friendly flick of his flukes. He set the vocorder down, pulled his blanket over his shoulder, and went to sleep.

Tony's stirring woke him up. Lucas briefly recalled having dreamed, but he couldn't remember what it was about other than the very welcome fact it wasn't another nightmare. He'd almost been rid of those before Gianna kidnapped him and took him to Juno. Now he not only had to deal with memories of that stupid slave colony, but the ones from If Island had come back too.

Lucas checked his diving watch, which he almost never removed. 0813. No time to roll over and snooze some more. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the source of sound. His roomie was moving pretty fast for that early in the morning. "You on duty soon?" Lucas croaked, sounding much more tired than he really was.

"Nah, just hungry. You comin' to breakfast?"

"No time. Staff meeting at 0900 and I need a shower." He'd grab something on the run.

"Didn't hear ya come in last night. How long ya been asleep?"

"Not long enough." Lucas forced his body out of the top bunk and stretched, yawning the entire time.

"Join the coffee club, pup."

"Yeah, yeah." He preferred highly sweetened cola for his caffeine fixes, but if coffee was all he could get, he'd down some. He'd kept his resolution to show up for work on time and prepared, in clean uniforms he hadn't slept in. Getting himself awake and alert was part of "prepared" so he would do whatever was necessary. He started gathering what he needed for the shower. "Hey, Darwin asked about you last night. He wants to play. Imagine that."

"I'm swimmin' later this mornin'. Doc wants me 'n' Mika to do some kinda gill comparison."

Lucas wondered how Tony would react if Mika showed up naked. He didn't have time to prevent a possible problem, so he had to hope Darwin had been wrong about her swimming in just skin or she'd learned better by now. "Which Doc?"

"Westphalen."

Good. That meant she'd stopped worrying about Zellar and was back into research. He didn't voice his thoughts to Tony.

"Yeah, I like her."

Now this problem Lucas _could_ prevent. "She's dating Commander Ford, Tony. Don't even _talk_ to her more than you have to."

Tony threw a dirty sock at him. "Not _that_ 'her', ya dope. Dr. Westphalen. I didn't mean that kinda 'like' either. Geeze Louise."

He was somewhat surprised to have been mistaken the ladies' man wasn't oogling Mika and even more surprised Tony was indignant about the assumption. Lucas raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, sorry."

"Hey, don't get me wrong. Mika's hot. If she dumps the commander, I'd go after her."

_This_ was more like the Tony he knew. Lucas smirked. "There'd probably be a line."

Tony stopped to meet his gaze. "Would _you_ be in it?"

The teen shrugged. "Maybe."

Tony slapped him on the back. "Yeah, buddy." He shot up the ladder and out the hatch. "Later, Luke."

"Yeah, later, Tony," Lucas muttered, mostly to himself, since Tony was out of range for anything but a yell. He wasn't sure he'd want to compete with Tony over a girl. What did it say about his taste if he was even _interested_ in the same girl as Tony? What did it say about either of them to be interested in someone who liked Commander Ford? Come on…ballet? The question was too hypothetical to spend brain cells on. He had plenty of other things to think about.

After a quick ion shower, he dressed and headed to the ward room. Mika was there, as were all the senior officers except for Captain Bridger. The captain arrived about a minute early and he didn't waste time with chit-chat. "What do you have so far, Mr. O'Neill?"

Tim pushed his glasses up his nose. "No answers to our hourly hails, but pingback scans show three signals are monitoring his frequency. Gen-U-Flect and Mariah's sub account for two of them. I haven't been able to isolate the third."

_Gen-U-Flect? Mariah?_ All kinds of warning lights were going off in Lucas's mind, plus a bit of self-criticism for going to bed. If he'd stayed up, he'd have known this already.

"Do you have a general location on the third?" the captain asked.

"No, sir. It's being bounced so much that every attempt at finding its origin is coming up a different place, all of them too far apart to be moving, like the one on Mariah's sub. They don't want to be found."

"Mr. Wolenczak, when we're done here, I want you to look at the pingback scans and see if any of those possible bounce-points match up to your data."

Lucas nodded. "I can do that."

"Do you have any further information on the email hackers?"

Lucas grinned and hit the button on the console to display his data. A world map came up with all the hackers' locations showing as dots of light. "These are all of them." He left it up so everyone could get a look. Someone emitted a low whistle. Mika cringed. Lucas changed the screen to show only fifteen of the points. "These are the ones whose account names seem legitimate." A list of the names appeared on the right side of the screen with addresses and occupations.

"Eliminate those," Hitchcock said.

Lucas wasn't used to Katie barking orders, at least not to him. He hesitated. The captain nodded encouragement to do what she said. He did it even as he felt shame coloring his cheeks. He had always had great respect for her even before she risked everything to rescue him from Juno. She'd just caught him by surprise. It took a few seconds to get the image to change, since he hadn't pre-programmed the data set for this particular configuration.

"What are you thinking?" the captain asked her. He stood and started pacing, but clearly taking in every bit of information.

Hitchcock explained herself with a calm self-confidence. "I'm not too worried about that sub in the South Pacific. Too far away. We can always catch up to her if we have to. Whoever is monitoring radio signals from Gen-U-Flect isn't hiding very well, so I doubt they'd bother to hide a simple email hack job."

"You're thinking our elusive radio scanner is the culprit?" The captain looked at Katie when he spoke, but watched the floor when he paced.

"I'm thinking why go to so much trouble to hide the fact you're monitoring some old guy's radio if you don't have good reason to? Hide, I mean."

"This doesn't narrow the search much," Lucas said.

The captain stopped moving and focused on Lucas. "Fifteen fewer names. Even if you only spent a minute on each one, that's fifteen more minutes of brainpower you can devote to something more important."

Given that he would surely spend more than a minute on each remaining data point, the captain did have a point. "You got it."

Bridger patted his back and then turned to Will. "How are we doing with helm response, Mr. Shan? We're going awfully fast and ice patterns change every year. We never know when a big berg will show up in our path."

The ensign nodded. "As long as we have WSKRS scouting ahead, there's nothing to worry about. Besides, aren't we nearly clear of the ice now?"

Commander Ford forced a cough. "Unfortunately."

No one said a word. It hadn't been that long ago they'd been chasing the Deinosuchus hatchlings that were only in existence because of melted Antarctic ice. Things were no better in the Arctic Ocean.

The captain acknowledged with a nod. "What's our ETA to Abalon, Commander?"

"Three hours, seventeen minutes at present speed."

"Miss Wise, we can't take this _seaQuest_ into that crevice. How would you recommend we proceed?"

"Leave _seaQuest_ outside and go in with a shuttle. I should be with you, just in case."

"It could be a trap."

"Father isn't answering my emails or your hails. I don't think he's there, but if he is, his equipment must be broken, in which case he will assume you're an invader and respond accordingly."

Lieutenant Brody cleared his throat. "What's his normal response to invaders?"

She sighed. "He's very private. He'd warn them off, but it's his home."

"If that's the case, maybe it's better you stayed behind," the captain said in a compassionate voice.

"No. He knows me. More importantly, Kaman and Shapra know me. They would stop an attack for me."

"We welcome your help then." The captain turned to Brody. "Lieutenant, organize a team, but Hitchcock is going with you. You can have Shan, but the rest of the officers stay on the bridge."

"How about Ortiz and Piccolo?"

"Yours if you want them. Just be advised, we're too deep for anyone to swim but Miss Wise."

"Piccolo is grounded. Understood, sir. I still want him."

Lucas noticed Commander Ford didn't look too happy. He had a feeling the commander and the captain would be having words in private after they all left. He was glad he didn't have to be there for that.

"Any questions?" the captain asked.

Silence. Heads shook.

"Dismissed."

Tim, Will, and Brody were out the door first. Commander Ford whispered in Mika's ear and then she also left. Once assured Katie was right behind him, Lucas left too. He waited in the corridor until she shut the ward room hatch.

She wore a worried and pre-occupied expression until she realized he was waiting for her. "Hey, Lucas. Sorry about that. Did you need something?"

His first impulse was to chat with her like she was already doing with him, but he stopped himself. He drew a deep breath and kept his serious face. "I wanted to apologize, Commander. I hope you didn't take my hesitation in there for disrespect."

She smiled. "You really _have_ grown up, haven't you?"

He didn't answer her rhetorical question.

"I didn't even notice you hesitated. Don't worry about it."

He exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

"Were you really that worried about it? Come on, Lucas, you know me." She started walking and hooked her arm in his until he kept up.

"Yeah. I know you, and I owe you big. All the more reason I shouldn't have acted like that. I don't want to be the smart-ass kid everyone has to make allowances for."

"You wear that uniform well, Lucas. You didn't disrespect me and even if you had, you've more than apologized."

He smiled. "You like the uniform? Ben thinks I'm a sell-out or something."

"He just wants _you_ to be the rebel he no longer has time for."

"I'm glad you're back on _seaQuest_, Katie."

"Thanks, Lucas. I've missed it more than I realized."

"Would you ever come back? I mean like for good?"

"Not while I'm designing the new sub. After that, who knows?"

_Who knows?_ What happened to marriage and babies and all that stuff Ben was bracing himself for? "You headed for the bridge?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. I don't go on watch until thirteen hundred. You?"

"Yeah. I need to get busy with correlating all that data."

"See you later then."

"See ya."


	57. Chapter 80

_**A/N: Well, my friends, I didn't meet my goal of getting this out within a week like I wanted to. However, it was well under two weeks, so that's an improvement over last time. My muse wasn't so much to blame this time as real life impinging on my writing schedule. I just committed to go on a shark tour. It's only a two-hour snorkel trip in local waters, but I am quite excited about it. Friend me on Facebook if you want all the sordid details. (FB link is on my profile. Be sure to tell me you found me on FF-net.) I do plan to take an underwater camera so there will be pics. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter.**_

* * *

**Chapter 80**

Lucas went back to the bridge and started getting his data ready to correlate with Tim's.

Miguel was already there. "What'd I miss?" he asked good-naturedly.

He wasn't snooping for anything classified and he didn't appear sorry he didn't have to attend the meeting. Lucas decided to give him a reason anyway. "Nothing, except the captain stressing out over doing a Titanic. I don't think he's comfortable if you're not here monitoring the WSKRS."

The sensor chief chuckled. "Job security. I'd rather be here than a boring meeting anyway."

"It wasn't too bad and at least it was short." Lucas lowered his voice and turned his head so only Miguel would hear. "Brody asked for you for the landing party."

"Yes!" Miguel exclaimed in an excited whisper. Easy-going guy he was, Miguel never complained about anything. He'd been extra busy with sensors ever since the tour started, first with the Deinosuchus hunt, then with the shark study, and now with navigating under the ice. Yes, he'd been in the charity auction and he'd had a day to go surfing before their Hawaii shore leave got cut short, but he'd missed the Juno mission and seeing Katie's luxury sub. He was definitely due for some excitement.

Lucas let his voice return to normal. "Don't get too excited. Mika doesn't think anyone's home."

"Hey, I can do without the Harpoon Twins, no problem." Sounded to Lucas like he'd had some experience with them or talked to someone who had.

Tim swiveled his chair to look up at him. "Pingback data is bundled in the file named 'Ping.'"

Lucas hit a few keys on his console. "Got it," he told Tim with a thumb's up. He gave Miguel a quick grin. "Back to work."

The sensor chief nodded, his face already the picture of concentration as he monitored WSKRS input.

Lucas opened Tim's file. Map coordinates coupled with the time each was recorded made for a lot of numbers on the screen. Lucas's raw data had been IP addresses, but he'd already converted to map coordinates, so he was ready to merge the files and run correlation algorithms on them. The captain probably only expected to know if any particular place had come up more than once, but Lucas figured while he was at it, he'd see if anything else turned up. It took him a little longer to write the program, but he didn't mind.

Captain Bridger and Commander Ford returned from the ward room.

"Captain on the bridge," someone called.

While everyone else came to attention, Lucas always tried to mimic his crewmates as best he could as a civilian. He didn't salute and he probably didn't practice the proper military posture, but he tried to stand still and keep his mouth shut.

"As you were," the captain said quickly, making his way in.

Lucas could have sworn their eyes met in the fraction of a second between him taking in the scene and his release. A sparkle in the elder man's eyes coincided with the slightest upturn of his lips, but it all happened so fast, Lucas couldn't be sure. He didn't expect any praise for standing still for a couple of seconds. Yeah, he knew he technically didn't _have_ to, but it made him feel like he belonged and it was nice to know the captain appreciated it.

"Mr. O'Neill, discontinue our hails. If any of our snoopers are listening, I'd rather they think we gave up."

"Aye, sir."

Commander Ford slipped into his seat. The commander rarely smiled and now was no exception, but he didn't seem agitated either. Whatever he'd needed to say to the captain had been said. Whether the outcome was what he'd wanted was anyone's guess. Ford was completely unreadable and that was how he liked it. He confirmed something with Will and asked Miguel a question before he gave the captain a status report.

It all sounded like routine chatter, so Lucas buried his face in his monitor and proceeded to silently urge the computer, _Come on, come on, come on_.

It seemed to be taking the program forever. At least it wasn't gobbling up RAM, so he could multi-task. He took the opportunity to do some routine checks on the ship's systems. These were the kind of tedious chores he didn't enjoy much, but it killed time better than just staring at the screen, and it was kinda important to make sure everything was working properly when _seaQuest_ could be running into bad guys with torpedoes at any moment. He wasn't so engrossed that he couldn't notice what was going on around him.

Once they cleared the ice, Miguel relaxed a bit. The North Atlantic was pretty well mapped and their course had been designed to keep them out of the path of most other subs that couldn't dive as deep. All Miguel had to do was watch out for the random deep subs or biologics. He could probably do that with both hands behind his back and one eye closed.

Tim also seemed a little less stressed now that he'd handed over his data and didn't have to keep repeating that unanswered hail. Brody and Hitchcock were absent, so there was none of that comedic tension to watch. Too bad. Lucas would have enjoyed the diversion right now. Tony arrived with wet but well-combed hair and his pink dyslexic glasses on. No one said anything about his odd shift time. Dr. Westphalen was really good at making sure her patients' superior officers were informed when she borrowed someone for medical or science purposes.

As Tony checked into his station, it struck Lucas how well Will had taken to Tony. Besides Hitchcock, Will was the only officer who hadn't been with _seaQuest_ when Tony first came aboard. He didn't have any memory of how Tony used to be. Will wasn't big on poker, so he hadn't seen that side of Tony either. Being the guy's roommate, it was harder for Lucas to see beyond Tony's off-duty personality, but he really _did_ deserve that promotion to petty officer.

Lucas would never have said so at the time, seeing how Tony had come to rescue everyone from Beauregard's Théâtre de la Souffrance, but he'd thought the promotion was a bit premature. I mean, sure, give him a medal or a citation or something, but permanently promote him? He figured the captain was just operating on deep appreciation and the huge probability that their time-tampering and alien-battling was going to get everyone killed anyway, so it didn't really matter. He thought for sure if they made it, Captain Bridger would regret the field commission.

But it hadn't turned out that way. Tony took his job seriously now, and it wasn't just to stay out of trouble. He'd learned to read on his own time and he didn't stop with the basics either. Dr. Smith was tutoring him and Lucas helped him out on occasion too. Lucas was probably the only one who knew Tony's 'I already seen it' excuse to skip every movie night was a cover for studying for the GED. Tony was obsessive about his new uniforms and being on time and showing respect because he meant it and not because it was required.

But most of all, Tony was soaking up _skill_. He paid attention on the bridge and he asked questions and he practiced, even when he thought no one else knew. Lucas had stumbled across the simulator records in the computer logs right before Pearl. All those times Tony had said he was 'playing games' in the crew lounge, he was logging time on the helm simulator way down on E-deck. From what Lucas could tell, his scores were exceptional. Will didn't give him the primary helm seat because of misplaced appreciation or because he had no choice with Henderson left behind. He gave it to Tony because Tony was actually _good_ at driving a submarine.

Brody had asked for Tony for the landing detail too. Even after the captain told him they would be too deep for Tony to use his gills, Brody still wanted him. With Brody, there was a possibility of subconscious obligation, since he had been at If, but Brody didn't strike Lucas as sentimental. If he felt indebted, it was probably only to the degree necessary to overcome memories of Tony's past behavior and not hold it against him. Brody might be a bit thick, but he didn't take chances with security or extraction teams. His success records were too important to his ego. Lucas didn't know what Brody saw in Tony in that regard, but he had to believe whatever it was, it was genuine.

Lucas's monitor flashed an alert. The correlation program was finished. Finally. His reflections on Tony evaporated as he threw all his attention to his results. At first, he thought he'd programmed the algorithm wrong. He frowned at the screen, then went back into his original findings to check his data. Checked and double checked. _Crap_. He studied all the results thoroughly before he looked up from the screen.

"Captain, I have a report on that correlation you asked me to run."

"Let's hear it, Mr. Wolenczak."

"I still can't tell you where the third radio monitor is, but I can tell you he's probably the same person responsible for the multiple hacks of Mika's email." Lucas directed a graphic up on the center screen to aid his report. "He bounced his IP signature just like he's bouncing his radio signal. He had me fooled into thinking he was hundreds of different hackers all over the world, when he accounts for about 90% of my original data. He's good."

"If he fooled you, he'd have to be." At least the captain didn't sound angry or disappointed in him.

Hitchcock arrived on the bridge. _Was it 1300 already?_

The captain acknowledged her formally first, then he canted his head at the screen. "Your hunch paid off, Commander. Mr. Wolenczak just verified the mysterious radio monitor also accounts for quite a few of our email hacks."

_Had she known?_

Katie paid Lucas a very quick wink and then nodded thoughtfully at the captain. "But we still don't know who it is or where his base of operation is."

"Or _her_," Commander Ford said.

"Or _her_," Katie agreed. "Didn't you say one of our suspects was a female GELF?"

"Her sub is one of the _known_ monitors," Tim put in.

"That could just mean she got careless one time," Katie said.

Leave it to women to be all devious and mess up perfectly good theories with underhanded tricks. Thoughts of Sandra Kirby and Gianna Valentino flooded Lucas's mind, and, if he were honest, quite a bit of hostility accompanied those thoughts. Good thing Dr. Smith wasn't here to call him on it. He made a conscious effort away from hating all women on account of a few bad apples. After all, men had done worse to him and he had plenty of good women role models. Dr. Westphalen treated him almost like a son and Katie was mentor, friend, and big sister all in one.

A few hours ago, he'd told Katie how glad he was to have her back aboard, but it had been at least half based on personal feelings. Now he was thinking they were darned lucky to have her mind on the bridge. What if she hadn't suggested correlating the data like she had? They'd all be operating under the assumption of hundreds of suspects. Now they were down to maybe half a dozen.

Katie glanced at her watch and then around the bridge. "Where's Lieutenant Brody?"

"I told him to start assembling the landing party," the captain reminded her.

She walked away from the captain's chair, across the bridge toward the helm station. As she passed, Lucas barely heard her mutter, "Three hours ago." Clearly, she thought Brody should be done by now. If he had started the task when the meeting ended, Lucas would agree, but he probably didn't start until his scheduled watch began, whenever that was. Brody was good at his job, but he wasn't quite as obsessed as Ford and Hitchcock. The captain hadn't put any kind of rush or priority on the order, so chances were, Brody didn't either.

"Mr. Piccolo, has Lieutenant Brody spoken to you about the landing party yet?" Katie asked.

"No ma'am, but I just got here. Dr. Westphalen needed me for an experiment at the moon pool earlier."

"Well, I hope he doesn't mind I'm beating him to it, but he requested you join us."

Tony grinned big. "Yes, ma'am." Lucas tried to decide whether he was excited Brody requested him, excited to be seeing action, or just plain happy to get off the boat a while.

"You too, Mr. Ortiz," Katie said, whipping her head back toward the sensor station.

Miguel looked at her and nodded to acknowledge he'd heard, but he pressed his hand to his headset so she understood he was busy with sonar. After her back was turned again and she was engaged talking to Will, Miguel whispered to Lucas with a chuckle in his voice, "Ooo. Brody's gonna have a hissy."

"Can't. She outranks him," Lucas whispered back. As Lucas understood it, the highest ranking officer was always in charge and the captain said Katie was going. Besides, she'd given Brody time to tell them himself. What was the old saying? Ya snooze, ya lose.

Katie turned around, probably sensing their whispers.

Both Lucas and Miguel had the good sense to get back to work. Now that Lucas knew the majority of the email hackers were just one source hiding in electronic camouflage, he wanted to reanalyze the data with a fresh perspective.

Brody showed up after a while. Quite a few crewmembers stared at him when he walked on the bridge. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"Is your team ready?" Captain Bridger asked.

"Everyone but bridge personnel have been informed. Weapons and equipment checked and loaded on _MR-6_."

"I informed Piccolo and Ortiz in your absence," Katie said evenly. It didn't sound like a reprimand to Lucas, but he was pretty sure if Brody didn't handle the news well, her tone would change.

"Thank you, Commander," Brody said. Also quite calm.

Lucas elbowed Miguel for his botched prediction.

"I haven't assigned pilots yet," Brody continued. "Shan and I can handle it, unless you want to drive."

"I think I'd like to, yes," she replied.

Lucas had no idea if this was really the battle of wits it appeared and if it was, who might be winning.

"Commander Ford, what's our E.T.A.?" the captain asked.

"Fifteen minutes to the outer walls of the crevice at present speed."

At present speed? _SeaQuest_ was ripping through the water like a bullet! If they waited much longer to slow down, they'd crash into the sea mount. Lucas resisted the urge to blurt out the obvious. The captain had to know about momentum.

"Full stop," Bridger ordered.

"Full stop, aye," Ford echoed.

Will repeated the order once more. Lucas felt the engines cut off, but he couldn't tell what effect it had on their speed without cheating with the instruments.

"Shuttle launch in ten minutes," the captain announced.

"Shan, Piccolo, and Ortiz, you're with us." Katie raised her hand in the "come on down" gesture. Miguel removed his headset and stood.

Lucas gave him a quick fist bump in farewell. Tony high-fived him on his way out.

The captain let everyone get a head start toward the clamshell doors and then he spoke again. "Commander Ford, would you escort Miss Wise to the launch bay, please?"

"Aye, sir." The XO followed the others toward the mag-lev.

Someone opened the metal cover on the forward windows. They were down pretty deep, so there wasn't a lot to see, but what little there was gave Lucas a visual cue on their speed. He wouldn't call it 'ripping' anymore, but she was gliding along at a pretty nice clip.

"Thoughts, Mr. Wolenczak?" the captain asked.

Had he been spacing out? He tried to think of something intelligent to say. "Are we too deep for Darwin? He hasn't been out in a while."

"We are right now, but after the shuttle launch, we can take her up a bit. No reason we have to wait at the same depth as the launch is going. Why don't you go down to the moon pool and break the news."

"You don't need me here?"

The captain gave a sort of gentle smirk. "I think we can handle coasting along without engines, yes." He thumbed over his shoulder. "Scram."

Lucas took off, leaving the bridge pretty deserted. He wondered whether Tim ever felt left out when nearly everyone else got to go on landing parties while he was left behind. Lucas used to feel that way, back when he'd been forced onto _seaQuest_ by his parents. Back then, it felt like a trap or a prison and he took almost every chance he could to escape. Now, after having been stuck in a real prison, his whole outlook had changed. It truly didn't bother him that he didn't get to tag along this time.

By all accounts, Dr. Wise was a dinosaur who chose to live in a sort of Captain Nemo utopian delusion of his own making. The guy probably didn't even _have_ a computer, or if he did, it probably took up a whole room and ran on floppy disks or some other completely obsolete method. Lucas wasn't in the mood to look at irrelevant antiques. It was one thing to visit an archeological site, like the Library of Alexandria, and discover _real_ relics, quite another to have to witness some pathetic old dude struggling along with transistors and steampunk contraptions just because he was stubborn.

Lucas got off the mag-lev at Sea Deck. Commander Ford passed him, going the other way, back to the bridge.

"Lucas!" Dr. Westphalen exclaimed on seeing him enter.

"I didn't know you were still down here. The captain sent me down to tell Darwin we're going to let him out soon."

"Out? Aren't we too deep?"

"Yeah, but he's going to take us up after the shuttle leaves."

"Did Mika and Commander Ford go with them?"

"Mika did, but not Commander Ford. Not sure he was too happy about it."

"Oh, he might act like it, but I bet he's secretly glad he didn't have to go. That place is like If Island was for you. He was taken there against his will and experimented on. He probably still has nightmares."

On a purely intellectual level, Lucas could accept the concept of Commander Ford having nightmares. He was human, after all. Then again, this was the steely guy who hardly even groaned when two French thugs ripped his back into a bloody pulp. "Yeah, and I bet he orders his imagination to drop and give him twenty when he wakes up."

The doctor chuckled and patted his shoulder.

"Lucas." It was Darwin's vocorder voice.

Lucas turned and headed to the moon pool. "Hey, buddy, you wanna swim outside? The captain's going to take us up so you can get some sunshine."

"Lucas swim outside with Darwin?"

He laughed. "I don't think we're going up _that_ far and I'm not qualified for deep diving." Dolphins could surface as fast as they wanted without getting the bends. Lucas wouldn't get the bends if he didn't try to surface, but then what was the point of leaving the boat? He rubbed Darwin's melon. "Have fun, okay?"

He nodded his beak. "Darwin hunt. Catch good fish."

"You watch out for predators and don't go near any fishing boats."

"Yes, Mum," Dr. Westphalen answered in exaggerated condescension.

He smirked at her. Of course, she was right. Darwin wasn't stupid. The captain had taught him to stay away from danger. Still, he was rather stubborn and Lucas could see him taking chances if he had a good reason. However, what seemed a 'good reason' to a dolphin and what Lucas considered worth risking his life over were probably two different matters.

Tim's voice came over the speakers. "_Shuttle MR-6_, you are clear to launch."

Katie responded: "_MR-6_ flooding launch bay and releasing docking clamps."

The captain's voice was next. "Keep a weather eye. We'll leave the barn door open."

"Aye, _seaQuest_. _MR-6 _out."

"Well, they're off," Dr. Westphalen remarked. "Now all we can do is wait."


	58. Chapter 81

**Chapter 81**

Jim Brody sat in the co-pilot's seat on _MR-6_. Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock had chosen to pilot the shuttle even though Shan was coming anyway and he was one of _seaQuest_'s best pilots. With any other new officer, Jim would assume it was either trust issues or showing off. But she wasn't exactly new. She'd been on the first _seaQuest_ and she'd been loosely associated with them ever since they asked her for help in rescuing the captain after the plane wreck.

Jim had seen her in action on Juno. There was no question she could fight and she was pretty darned good at negotiation too. The captain and Kendall held her engineering skills in very high regard and Jim didn't know enough about engineering to entertain doubts if he had them. There was never any doubt she could handle the shuttle. She had her own submarine and her service record listed qualification in the advanced Hyper-Reality Probe as well as every other underwater craft the Navy owned and half of the flying ones too.

Yet, she didn't get uppity and she never bragged. Still, something about her got under Jim's skin. Every time he was around her, he became a bumbling idiot.

He knew he was in trouble when the captain put her on the landing party. He didn't think it was any kind of commentary on his skill at leading a team. With the possible exception of losing a couple guys to a carnivorous plant no one suspected was dangerous, his mission record was above reproach. He didn't think it bothered him he wouldn't be in charge either. Ford routinely went along on landing parties and despite them being major rivals, he didn't have trouble deferring to someone else's leadership.

Since he couldn't find a way to blame _her_, yet he knew her presence would rattle _him_, and that was a risk he couldn't afford, he'd gone to see Dr. Smith right after the captain's briefing.

He still didn't like shrinks. He hated being psychoanalyzed and he wasn't very keen on empaths either. But Wendy had got them all through a lot. She respected him enough to have her memories wiped so it was like she never got inside his head on If. While he whined about psych sessions being mandatory, he was secretly thankful he had someone to talk to about all the nightmares and emotional baggage. Valerie tried to listen a couple of times, but she didn't understand the way Wendy did and besides, since the tour started, he'd needed to talk about Valerie and the baby almost as much as he needed to talk about his PTSD.

Of course, Wendy had dropped what she was doing to talk to him.

"We don't have time to figure out _why_ she rattles me, Doc. Just tell me how to fix it so I don't screw up and get somebody killed."

"If you screwed up and Hitchcock countermanded you, effectively nullifying your screw-up, how would that make you feel?"

"Like an idiot."

"Then take yourself off the mission."

His jaw dropped. "What?"

"You've made this too personal. If your places were reversed and you compensated for _her_ mistake to save lives, she'd _thank_ you."

He scowled. Could Wendy be right? "That's your solution? I should quit?"

"Well, since you 'don't have time' to figure out why she bothers you, I have to guess. Without more information, I'd guess you've never had a strong female authority figure."

He opened his mouth to protest but she held up a warning hand. It was her turn to talk.

"You were raised by grandparents, right?"

He nodded.

"Grandma loved you to pieces but you told me yourself you got away with a lot in your youth. Your mother is a strong woman, but she's never been a part of your life. I don't doubt Valerie is strong, but she's supposed to be your equal partner, not your superior officer."

"I respect Hitchcock as a superior officer," he insisted.

"Do you? I admit I haven't been on the bridge since she's been on duty, but from what I hear, you've been trying to impress her like some over-eager schoolboy with a crush."

"I do_ NOT_ have a crush on her." Not only was he married, but Hitchcock wasn't his type. At all. In any way, shape, or form.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Simile, Jim. My point is, you want her to see how good you are at your job, the way the everyone else sees you and practically worships—"

He scoffed. "Nobody _worships_ me."

"Practically, I said. Tell me, why weren't you rattled like this on Juno?"

There was a long interval of silence. "I don't know."

"I think I do. Do you want to hear it?"

He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it, but why come talk to her if he wasn't going to listen? "Okay, why?"

"Because you considered that society 'backwards'. You knew everything about the mission was just an act. You didn't care if she didn't think you weren't really a submissive male."

"I got no complaints on my acting," he huffed.

"That's my point. You played Skippy flawlessly because you had nothing to prove. When it comes to showing Hitchcock you really are a competent submariner, there's a little more at stake, isn't there?"

"I _am_ a competent submariner, and I'm a good at leading landing parties and search and rescue."

"I don't think Hitchcock doubts it."

He sighed. "She should, the way I've been bumbling around on the bridge."

"The more you bumble, the more desperate you become to prove you're not a bumbler."

"So…" He struggled to think, wrinkling his brow with the effort. "How do I stop bumbling?"

"Stop worrying about what she thinks. She isn't on _seaQuest_ permanently. You are. If the captain or the XO have a problem with you, then you have to worry, but I'm sure they'd tell you if they did."

"'Don't worry, be happy'? That's your professional advice?"

"I wouldn't word it quite like that, but essentially, yes. Do your job without looking over your shoulder. Stop assuming she's out to get you. Just because she's capable of doing your job doesn't mean she wants it."

"I never said I thought she was after my job."

She cocked her brow and stared him down.

"I'm _**not**_ competing with her." Hadn't he said that before?

Her voice was quiet but she didn't drop her blunt honesty. "Jim, you're jealous because Jonathan _does_ compete with her." She paused. "And not with you." Another pause and her voice got even softer. "Since she's been here, he's relegated _you_ to second fiddle while she gets all his competition."

It took him a while to form a response. "So why don't I get all bumble-headed around _him_, then?"

"Because you've always competed with _him_. You're not competing _with_ Hitchcock, because she doesn't care. She's in the reserves and she has a submarine to design and build. You're trying to win her approval so Ford will count you worthy of _his_ rivalry again when she's gone."

His mouth opened but no words came out. He wanted to deny it with every fiber of his being, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, stunned by the revelation.

"You sure you didn't cheat on this one, Doc?" He said it with a hint of humor so she wouldn't take it as an insult. Empathy or not, she knew him too damned well.

"Got close, did I?"

He shuddered. "Too close. I gotta go. Thanks for squeezing me in."

The memory of his chat with Wendy weighed heavily on his mind while he sat in the co-pilot's seat. Thank goodness _seaQuest_ had let them out close to the cave entrance, so the shuttle ride was short. If he had to make small-talk with the very intimidating lieutenant commander, he'd surely die.

Hitchcock shot through the cavernous entryway at full speed. Jim tried to tell himself she had so much confidence because she'd been here before. But that only reminded him she had piloted _seaQuest_ itself through here. Sure, the first one was a bit smaller, but he wouldn't have tried it with a _Los Angeles_-class.

"Do you see any other sub in here?" Hitchcock asked as they neared what appeared to be a docking bay.

"It's dark and I don't know if there are any forks where it could hide."

She shook her head. "There weren't any forks two years ago. It was right here. Tell _seaQuest_ Dr. Wise's submarine appears to be missing."

"Aye, ma'am." He pressed the radio button. "_MR-6_ to _seaQuest_."

"Go ahead, _MR-6_," O'Neill's voice said.

"Initial visual assessment of the entrance shows no sign of Dr. Wise's submarine. However, he's had two years to build a berth somewhere."

The captain's voice took over. "Visual assessment acknowledged, _MR-6_. That's a negative on the berth. Sonar shows no place to hide a submarine outside of the docking bay."

"No hidden parking garage affirmed, _seaQuest. MR-6_ out." He depressed the radio button again to disconnect the transmitter and turned to Hitchcock. "Looks like we came all this way for nothing."

"You don't know that, Lieutenant. Maybe someone removed his only means of escape so they could hold him hostage in there."

"Well, that's some pretty dumb kidnappers. They forgot the ransom note."

Hitchcock rolled her eyes at him.

_Crap. I'm doing it again_.

She took on a forced-patience tone, like he often used to talk to Dagwood. "Remember, we've got a civilian with us, one who's emotionally attached to this guy. Try to have a little tact for her sake, will ya?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said with genuine contrition.

The shuttle eased up against a docking ring and she lined the shuttle's docking hatch up to the ring and nailed it perfect on the first try. If it had been basketball, it would have been nothin' but net.

Cheers sounded from the passenger compartment. "Slick drivin', Commander," Shan called up.

_Why didn't I think of that?_ Jim berated himself.

"Thank you, Ensign. Glad I haven't lost my touch. Everyone gear up."

Racket commenced, everyone releasing their safety buckles and strapping on weapons, PALs, and various sensors.

Carefully, and trying to follow his psychiatrist's advice, Jim turned to Hitchcock and asked, "So, do we make our civilian stay behind until it's all clear, or do we let her go in ahead of us in case her friends are the biggest threat?"

"She can call out to them, but we protect her until she gets an answer from a voice she recognizes."

"Understood."

"Who are you assigning to her?"

If she wanted to run this thing, why didn't she just do it? Why did she have to question him? "I dunno. You got someone in mind?"

"Yeah. If you're not doing it, I'll take her myself."

His first instinct was to jump at her offer. He didn't want to be responsible for Ford's girlfriend and babysitting Mika meant he would surely miss the action, if there was any to be had. Then again, pawning her off on Hitchcock felt vaguely like cowardice. Guarding a civilian was always top priority. Hitchcock implied he should have chosen himself. For him to pass it on would be abdicating his responsibility. _No_. If she wanted to command this team, all she had to do was pull rank. He wasn't going to throw it away.

"I got her." After a second of thinking: "Thanks for giving me a choice."

She gave him a curt nod. "Bridger says you're the best. Don't you dare make him a liar."

Now _there_ was some pressure. The most respected captain in the entire UEO Navy had bragged on him and she was watching him like a hawk to make sure he lived up to that brag. That's when it hit him. He missed his rivalry with Ford because it was _fun_, not because he'd suddenly become second fiddle, although there was no denying it stung to be left out. But how petty and stupid was it to be pining over that? This reservist lieutenant commander would be leaving soon, yet she cared about the reputation of _seaQuest_ and Captain Bridger's word more than he'd been showing lately.

He looked her in the eyes for the first time that day. He'd seen the startling ice blue the first time she came aboard _seaQuest_, so the color didn't surprise him as much as it might have, but there was an intensity about her gaze that just about bowled him over. Forget trying not to screw up because she'd think he was a bumbling doofus. Hitchcock looked fully ready to _kill_ him if he didn't prove worthy of the faith others were putting in him. Furthermore, he knew she was fully capable of killing him if she ever wanted to. That woman she fought back on Juno was alive because she'd shown mercy, not because she couldn't have done it.

_Thanks for the reminder_. He couldn't bring his mouth to voice it. Besides, speaking it would have sullied the idea. Talk was cheap. Don't talk; do. He did a quick checklist of his own equipment and then stepped from the cockpit to the passenger area. "Miss Wise?"

From among the uniformed team members getting ready, she walked out. While everyone else had been adding utility belts full of equipment, she'd taken off almost everything. In fact, Jim had to do a double take because in her skin-tight white divesuit, she looked almost naked. _Damn…she is __**hot**_.

Ortiz snapped his fingers in front of Jim's face. "Taken, Lieutenant. And don't forget by whom."

He shook himself out of his gawking and gave Ortiz a sidelong glance. The sensor chief went back to what he'd been doing. It wasn't insubordination. It was watching his six. That's what he'd taught all his team. Cover each other.

"This is what I always wore at home," Mika said, stretching out her arms. "They will recognize me better in this."

Jim pretended he hadn't noticed what she was wearing at all. "Good thinking. When we get the hatch open, you can call out, but you're staying with me until we know it's safe."

She nodded and made her way across the crowd to stand at his side.

"Everyone ready?"

Thumbs up and a couple of hoo-yahs.

He looked over his shoulder. "Commander?"

"We have a green light on the seal. Open the hatch."

Everyone took up defensive positions, pointing their weapons toward the docking collar. Jim pressed the button on the shuttle control panel that slid the door out of the way. Seawater gushed everywhere and a slimy metal hatch appeared only inches from where the shuttle hatch had been. "Is there a code?" he asked Mika.

She shook her head. "No. You just open it manually."

Sure enough, there was a yellow wheel and lever on the outside, the kind Jim had only seen in World War II movies. He almost made a joke about antiques, but thought better of it. Hitchcock used a pressure detector to make sure there wasn't a huge differential in air pressure, or heaven forbid, water, on the other side. When she was satisfied it was safe, she pulled the lever and turned the wheel to break the airlock seal.

The hatch hissed open. Hitchcock peeked out the crack and then nodded to Mika.

Mika stepped forward, staying in Jim's reach, but getting closer to the opening. "Father? Kaman? Shapra? It's Mika," she called loudly. "I'm here with friends from _seaQuest_. We're here to help."

Silence.

"Father? I was worried when you stopped answering my mails. Please tell me you're all right."

No answer.

Jim nodded to Shan and Ortiz, who were in front. Hitchcock opened the hatch fully and the team moved into the dimly lit cave. He felt his heartbeat quicken.

"Clear!" someone shouted.

He held Mika until everyone else had exited the shuttle, but then they too moved forward.

Another shout of "Clear!"

Mika called, "Father?" and this time desperation laced her voice.

"You said yourself he probably was gone," Jim reminded her. "Gone as in absent, not dead," he added quickly.

"Clear!" rang out from what Jim remembered as the main chamber from the sketches they'd studied back on _seaQuest_. He started a jog and Mika was quick to match his pace.

The room was an absolute shambles. Broken glass and water littered the floor along with broken furniture and old-fashioned instruments. Shan stood next to a wall lamp missing its shade. He'd evidently just turned on the bulb. He shook his head and muttered, "Still needs an interior decorator."

Calls of "Clear" still came at intervals as the team checked all the chambers in the complex. Mika stood in the midst of the rubble, shaking her head.

"Lieutenant, you'd better get down here," Piccolo called.

He wasn't sure which way the voice had traveled. "Where are you? Is it cleared yet?"

"He's in the lab," Mika said. "This way."

He grabbed her upper arm. "Wait. Not until I know it's safe." He raised his voice. "Piccolo?"

"Yeah, it's clear in here, but you better brace her for a shock."

Mika surged out of his grasp and into the lab with Jim right on her heels. There was more glass and water and busted equipment, but there was also a lot of red. _Blood_. Piccolo stood over a body. A bloody harpoon jutted out of the chest and the face was as white as the skinsuit he wore matching Mika's. There was no point in checking for a pulse.

"Kaman!" Mika sobbed and ran to the body. The way she was crying, she'd obviously been close to the guy.

Jim resisted the urge to sigh. He _hated_ when women cried. Okay, death and parting were a bitch. He'd lost loved ones before and he'd cried, too, but sheesh, she could have shown a little more restraint. She'd had plenty of time to prepare herself. It wouldn't be cowardly or dereliction of duty to pawn her off on Hitchcock now, would it?

"We got another one down here," Hitchcock called. From the tone in her voice, she had to mean another body.

Mika jerked up. "Father?" she questioned through her sobs. She started to stand.

Jim laid his hand on her shoulder and called down the hall, "Is the victim young or old, Commander?"

"Young. One of the brothers."

"Same here. Anyone find any sign of Dr. Wise?" He directed his voice more generally, so more of the team could hear.

"Not here."

"Negative."

"Not a trace."

"Are we all clear?" Hitchcock asked.

"All clear," several voices said.

Jim let go of Mika. Her eagerness had waned a bit, but she still got up. She followed Hitchcock's apparent voice trail. The room she found was evidently a bedroom. It was equally torn apart, with drawers left open and clothes and papers strewn everywhere. A torn black and white photograph (the kind made with film and developed in a darkroom) stared up from under the shattered glass of a broken frame. Mika and Franklin smiled together at the camera.

"This was Father's room," Mika said. "Shapra must've tried to protect him." Her gaze lingered on the dead body.

"He's not here," Hitchcock said. "So he could still be alive."

Mika knelt by Shapra's body and broke into fresh sobs. Jim stood there, wondering if he should say anything, and if so, what.

"You want to call the captain?" Hitchcock asked. "Or should I?"

"I'll do it." Jim was relieved to have another task right now. He moved out of the bedroom where his report wouldn't disturb the grieving woman and lifted his PAL to his mouth. "Brody to _seaQuest_, come in."

"This is _seaQuest_," O'Neill's voice said. "Go ahead."

Jim didn't have to ask to know the captain was right there listening. "We found definite signs of struggle here. Two dead. Mika confirms they are Kaman and Shapra, the other GELFs. No sign of Dr. Wise. Recommend you send medical examiner and forensic specialists to help us look for clues to who did this and where they may have taken him. This place is a mess. It's gonna take time."

Captain Bridger replied, "Acknowledged, Lieutenant. We're at dolphin diving depth right now, so the next shuttle will take a little longer to get there, but I'll send a science team straightaway. How's our civilian?"

"She's pretty broken up over the brothers, but she's holding out hope for her father."

"Tell her Commander Ford will be piloting the science team shuttle."

"Affirmative. Brody out."


	59. Chapter 82

**_A/N: I'm not going back to fix what I've already posted, but in my own revision of this story, I am going to make some additions. Back in the chapter where Bridger talks to Noyce about this for the first time, Noyce would insist they take some kind of investigator, presumably something like an NCIS Agent Afloat. I realize they never mentioned such a thing in the UEO universe, so it's up to anyone's imagination where this person might come from. Sector Seven? Maybe CJane's wonderful COA? Noyce had plenty of time while they were recalling the crew on Pearl to get some kind of investigator aboard_ seaQuest. _Let's assume he did it and further assume I actually mentioned this way back when it "happened" so it doesn't seem like a deus ex machina right now. I am going to call it an NCIS agent, but I am not doing a crossover with the TV show of that name. NCIS is a real agency that exists now and could easily exist in 2023, when this story is set. Any anomaly I portray concerning how things are really done can be attributed to A) things changing in the future and B) dramatic license. (Surely the TV show uses B an awfully lot too.) _**

_**Special Agent Alex Townsend boarded in Pearl.**_

_**There are other writers who wait until their whole story is written, revised, and perfected before they post a single chapter. Sorry, but I need more encouragement along the way, so I don't do it like that. This is the price we pay for me making this up as I go. I hope it's not too annoying.**_

* * *

**Chapter 82**

Kristin sat by the moon pool on sea deck, writing notes on her findings from that morning. Tony and Mika had indulged her curiosity about their gills by coming in for a short swim before they left on the shuttle. She sat here on purpose, but being here hadn't been her first choice.

Last night, Lucas had sent her that picture of Zellar in his prison cell and she'd felt a little better. Then she called the warden by vid-link and verified the picture wasn't some security camera footage he looped to cover an escape. The warden was kind enough to verify, in person, that Zellar was indeed still in custody.

Still, just thinking about that man again had brought some nasty memories and emotions to the surface and she really didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. She'd stopped by Wendy's office after her test subjects left, but it looked like Wendy was busy. Kristin had been availing herself of Dr. Smith's psychology skills ever since Juno, but she also considered Wendy her friend. She didn't have to make a formal appointment every time she wanted to talk. Unless, of course, Wendy didn't have a free minute. That had been the case quite a lot this tour.

How _seaQuest_ had ever gotten along without a full-time psychologist was the real question. More than half of the bridge personnel had PTSD, not to mention all the normal craziness associated with so many people living in the confined space of a submarine. Then they picked up Matthew and Kyle, both victims of extreme abuse, and Wendy had been working double overtime ever since.

However, Matthew and Kyle both left _seaQuest_ back at Pearl, so Wendy should have had more time. Yet, when Kristin tried to pop in for some girl talk, it sounded like Lieutenant Brody was in there with her. Kristin didn't listen in, but their tones were rather serious, so she left without knocking.

Her next idea had been to see Nathan. Surely, he'd tell her how ridiculous it was to give Zellar even one more minute of her thought time. The bio-chemical engineer was locked away in a prison deep under the Indian Ocean, watched by both cameras and humans. He couldn't do anything to Franklin Wise from there and remembering what he did to her brother or what he threatened to do when he was on _seaQuest_ wasn't productive either. Nathan would be kind, yet practical, and tell her to stop giving Zellar any kind of power by wasting her thoughts on him. Yes, he should have been left in cryo-freeze, but no one could change that. Forgetting he existed was the best strategy. Kristin knew that. She just wanted someone to agree with her.

But a quick pep talk from her husband hadn't been in the cards either. After his staff meeting, Nathan stayed behind with Ford for some kind of private chat. At least that's what everyone else leaving the Ward Room had said. Kristin knew better than to try to interrupt a captain and his executive officer.

So she went back to sea deck where at least Darwin's clicks and whistles would assure her she wasn't alone. She didn't try to explain her melancholy to the dolphin. The vocorder was a wonderful tool, but human-to-dolphin communication was still very crude. Maybe, if she could reach Darwin without the vocorder she'd have a better chance, but the last time Darwin communicated with her in a dream, it was one-way, with him doing all the 'talking'. It didn't matter. She had data to enter into the computer and notes to transcribe. It wasn't like she was depressed or anything, just not her usual bubbly self.

And then Lucas showed up out of the blue and suddenly, her day brightened. They didn't talk about Zellar. What was there to say? The teen had grasped that Zellar's connection in this whole mess had unnerved her or he wouldn't have hacked the prison security cams to ease her mind. He probably assumed she was completely over it now, and his confidence in her ability to do that made it feel more like reality. She was as 'over it' as she was going to get. She still thought Zellar had been the one to read the emails, but whatever he wanted to gain from reading them had been denied him. He was thwarted and she could stop worrying about him.

Lucas's happy face brightened her day just being there, but he also held good news for Darwin. While the shuttle was off in search of Franklin Wise, Nathan was going to bring _seaQuest_ up enough for Darwin to get out, get some sun, and hunt. Kristin hadn't been aboard when he'd been so light-deprived he'd become ill, but Wendy had documented the whole thing and logged a report.

Kristin mostly regretted the tour she'd missed, but she had to admit Wendy had been uniquely qualified to meet some of the very odd situations that had manifested during that time. Without Wendy to intervene on the light-deprivation occasion, maybe Lucas, Ortiz, and O'Neill would have built another imaging system like the one they built when Tezlof's autistic son, Caesar, was aboard. Kristin still thought the synthesis of vocorder and holo-projector held great promise. Darwin might have used it more if given a chance. But the equipment had been destroyed with _seaQuest I_ in that lava bed on the sea floor and apparently, the guys hadn't had the time or felt the impetus to build another one.

"Lucas, do you ever think about the holo-vocorder?" she asked after Nathan opened the sea doors and Darwin took off for his swim.

Lucas leaned back, resting his elbows on the edge of the moon pool wall. "Naw. Darwin doesn't clam up much and when he wants to use pictures, he does that dream thing of his. I got the feeling he finds thrashing his tail around just to produce an image to be primitive and a waste of time."

Hadn't Malcolm said the same thing? She chuckled. "Sort of like our outdated smoke signals and Morse code."

"Yeah. I mean, in the dreams, he communicates so much more."

"More? How so?"

"When we were on If, he wasn't just projecting pictures into our dreams. He somehow sent us hope and peace. Dr. Smith said it was like 'drinking liquid love'. The holo-vocorder can't do that."

She nodded. How long had it been since she had some serious hypothetical science discussion with him, or anyone, for that matter? So much of her work was directed at dire situations and last-ditch efforts that she rarely had time for thinking about cutting edge and pure science for the sake of curiosity. Lucas had more opportunity to do that only because he did it 'on the side'. His official job was chief computer analyst, not dolphin communications. She started to ask if he'd heard from his parents lately but he said something at the same time and they both cut off abruptly.

"Go ahead," she urged him. Whatever he wanted to say was probably less painful than thinking about his parents anyway.

"I was saying I think Mary could help us understand that kind of communication better. I don't know. It seems like she might be able to send emotions too, so it wouldn't be all one-sided."

"You might be right. Did you ask her?"

He laughed. "Yeah. I even said I'd meet her on the surface in a rowboat with Darwin so she wouldn't have to board _seaQuest_ and be exposed to so many people."

"Impractical for a long term study, but it's a start. You need to keep pushing."

"Me? She's Tim's girlfriend, not mine."

"Besides Tim and Wendy, she has no friends. At all. When I met her, I told her I wanted to touch her and she broke down in tears. If you don't push, it reinforces her notion that it's better just to isolate herself. She doesn't think anyone cares enough to accept her differences."

"Differences? She has a super-power! She's like Professor X or something. It's so cool."

"But this super power makes others fear her. I'm not an empath, but I'm pretty sure they have less ability to tolerate fear and negative emotions than us regular people."

"Yeah." He nodded like he knew. He'd known Wendy a lot longer than she had and he was no dummy.

"Bridger to Medbay," came over the loudspeakers and made them both jump.

Kristin stood and pressed the button on the wall. "Dr. Westphalen here. Medbay is empty, Captain. I'm on sea deck. What do you need?"

"We have two confirmed dead in Abalon, Doctor. Coordinate with Special Agent Townsend on assembling a forensic team. Commander Ford will be taking a shuttle in fifteen minutes."

"Is Dr. Wise one of the dead?"

"Negative. Mika identified them as Kaman and Shapra."

"Then I want Dr. Smith designated as medical examiner."

"If you can convince Townsend, I've got no problem with that."

Kristin planted a hand on her hip even as her voice got steely. "If Townsend doesn't like it, I suggest you get Admiral Noyce to change his mind. Dr. Smith has more experience with GELF anatomy and physiology than anyone else. On _seaQuest_ or off." Ever since the Gen-U-Flect GELFs won their freedom, they'd become rather adamant about not seeing human doctors. Wendy was the only human to have ever examined the GELF baby and she also had extensive experience with Dagwood. Kaman and Shapra were no doubt more closely related to Mika than to Dagwood, but the scientists that had studied _her_ were all suspects in the threat against her father.

Another voice cut in: "Townsend here, Doctor. I'm glad you're willing to loan me Dr. Smith. No need to bother the admiral. I'm on my way to sea deck to speak with you."

Kristin felt a little foolish for having assumed he wouldn't listen to reason. Even after being married to a Navy captain, she still had a knee-jerk reaction of distrust when it came to the military meddling in science affairs. Yet Townsend was no more military than Kristin was. She should give him the benefit of the doubt.

The NCIS agent bounded in just then. Kristin removed her finger from the intercom button and spoke to him directly. "That was fast."

He panted lightly. "I'm eager to get to the crime scene. Will you be coming?"

"If Dr. Smith thinks I'd be helpful, yes. But she should have the lead."

"No argument here. Anyone else you recommend?"

Lucas had been listening the whole time, but he'd kept quiet. He'd always been so eager to go on landing parties when he was sixteen, but now he didn't seem quite as anxious to get off the boat. Kristin canted her head at Lucas. "This is Lucas Wolenczak. He's our chief computer analyst. Is there any indication Dr. Wise had computerized records?"

"Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock said all the equipment had been vandalized pretty badly. There's a really old computer, but she doesn't think it works."

"If you want a chance at getting it to work, I suggest you take Lucas here and ask the captain if you can have Lieutenant O'Neill, too. If those two can't get it to work, no one will."

"You up for it, Lucas?" Townsend asked.

"Sure." He left the side of the moon pool.

"What else do you need?" Kristin asked.

"Are you kidding? You've got some of the greatest scientists in the world here. We need skilled observers."

Kristin chuckled. "Eyeballs I can supply. Let me talk to Dr. Smith and I'll get you a team ready."

Townsend nodded. "I need to talk to the captain. Lucas, can you tell me how to get to the bridge?"

"I'll take you," Lucas said.

In another ten minutes, Kristin arrived at the Launch Bay with Wendy and Joshua in tow. Lucas, Townsend, O'Neill, and Ford met them there.

"Is this all?" Townsend asked.

"There's a team already there," Ford said. "We're going to be crowded as it is."

"They won't touch anything until it's been photographed, right?"

"If Hitchcock said she'd secure the area without disturbing evidence, you can bet your government pension she did just that." Was that a note of annoyance in the commander's voice? At least Townsend had the good sense not to push it any further. Kristin would have to defend Katie next if this Special Agent didn't change his tune quick.

Townsend turned to Wendy. "Dr. Smith? Forgive me for asking. I know your experience with GELFs is unparalleled, but how many autopsies have you performed?"

They boarded the shuttle as they talked. Ford and O'Neill headed to the forward compartment while all the science personnel found seats in the back.

"Non-human? Hundreds." Wendy shot a covert wink at Kristin.

Townsend's jaw dropped. "H-hundreds? I didn't know that many GELFs had died."

"Not GELFs. Marine species. Whales, sharks, dolphins, squid, even a couple of walruses. And very recently, twenty-two Deinosuchi. I bet you won't find _that_ experience anywhere else."

He nodded. "No, of course not. I…" He seemed at a loss of words for how to probe her further without insult. Even Kristin could figure out what he was thinking.

Wendy chuckled. "I assume you want to know my human autopsy rate. About thirty solo, more as an assistant. I seriously considered becoming a medical examiner."

"I didn't know that," Kristin remarked.

Wendy grinned. "No patient emotions to deal with, but I couldn't handle the grieving families they constantly have to face. Psychology at least gave me a way to help people in emotional pain."

"Yes, and here on _seaQuest_, we exploit _all_ your talents and abilities," Kristin said only half-joking.

"Well, I'd feel better with my own team of forensic specialists," Townsend said. "But since that wasn't possible, I can't complain. We have enough latex gloves for everyone?"

Wendy flashed a look at Kristin which Kristin interpreted as _You field this one because this guy is trying my patience_.

Kristin cleared her throat. "Smith, Levin, and I are all medical doctors. Your evidence is safe with us."

"Yeah, and I can type with gloves on," Lucas put in.

"That assumes Wise had a keyboard," Levin joked. "This guy disappeared in 1953, so the real question is: Can you punch data cards with gloves on?"

"Data cards?"

Kristin elbowed Levin but she decided to play too. "Data cards are easy. It's operating a slide rule that's tricky with gloves on." She said it like she'd done it even though she'd never seen a slide rule in her life.

Lucas's eyes widened. He was so cute when he thought he was in over his head. Too bad it was so difficult to really stump him. Smarty-pants he was, he could probably _design_ a slide rule himself if he ever had the need.

Even Townsend laughed at that one.

Darwin bumped his beak on one of the portholes as the shuttle pulled away from _seaQuest_. Lucas waved hello and then performed the hand signal to go home. The shuttle was going much too deep for him to follow and at so slow a pace the dolphin would likely drown before they hit air again. Kristin peered out the porthole to be sure he heeded Lucas's silent instruction.

Lucas turned in his seat and looked out the aft window, no doubt thinking the same thing. "He went in," he reported.

"Good. I think Special Agent Townsend here might burst a blood vessel if I ordered Ford to turn around." Not that she really had the authority to _order_ the commander to do any such thing. Still, she didn't mind letting this landlubber investigator _think_ she could. Ford would do it at her mere suggestion, if for no other reason than he knew darned good and well the captain would want an explanation if he didn't. Besides, everyone on _seaQuest_ had a soft spot for Darwin, even Ford.

Townsend smiled good-naturedly. "Well, if I'm going to pop a vein, I can think of no better place to do it than in front of three doctors."

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. The ocean beyond their portholes became gradually darker as they descended until it was completely devoid of light. The shuttle swayed and rocked as they navigated through the cave, but from where Kristin sat, she couldn't see anything past the dim cabin lights.

They docked and Ford came back to check the seal and open the hatch while O'Neill contacted Hitchcock to get the door opened from Abalon's side. Kristin put on a pair of gloves and gathered her gear. The docking seal hissed open. Before anyone could get out, Mika surged in, right into Ford's arms, and buried her face in his shoulder. She wasn't wailing, but this was more than a 'I missed you' embrace. Jonathan looked bewildered. Kristin bit her lips to keep from laughing. He wasn't at all prepared to comfort her, at least not while he considered himself on-duty.

She didn't appear able to read his body language, or perhaps she just ignored it. Although he cringed, like he thought this might be against regulations, he did manage to pat her on the back and whisper something that sounded comforting, at least in tone.

Kristin heard sweeping just down the hall, along with the unmistakable tinkle of glass. Sure enough, Piccolo had a broom and was attempting to clear a path in the sea of shards on the floor. The place looked like a hurricane had been through.

Special Agent Townsend bypassed the grieving woman and her comforter and headed straight for Hitchcock. "What are your people _doing_?" he shouted.

"You wanna walk on broken glass?" Hitchcock replied, just as sharply. "We photographed everything just how it was when we got here and we haven't touched anything big enough to have a fingerprint. You want us to bag these splinters, I can arrange that."

_Go get him, Katie_.

"My apologies, Commander," Townsend said.

"Are we in your _way_? Because we can just as easily go back to _seaQuest_."

"No. This is my first solo assignment and I'm not used to having non-investigators who know how to preserve evidence. You're not in the way. I appreciate your help."

She gave a slight nod as the only indication she accepted his apology. She raised her arm and pointed. "One body is in the lab." She lowered her arm. "The other one is in what Mika described as Dr. Wise's quarters." She led them past Piccolo, to an open door, but no one entered.

"Have you taken pictures in here yet?" Townsend asked.

"Yeah, just wide angles of the rooms though. Mika touched the bodies, but we kept her from moving them."

Even standing behind Townsend and Hitchcock, Kristin could see the prominent fishing spear protruding from the chest. Townsend nodded back at Hitchcock. "I'm guessing we won't have much trouble determining cause of death."

He was probably right, but Kristin would let science dictate. She'd worked with Wendy and Joshua long enough to know neither of them would make assumptions either. She took another look around the shambled mess and couldn't help the sigh that escaped. This was going to be a very long day.


	60. Chapter 83

**Chapter 83**

Kristin had practically forced the lead M.E. position on Wendy and the younger doctor had accepted it with modesty. The seasoned elder promised herself not interfere with the younger's style even though Wendy accepted her offer to assist. Since they'd already been working together a while, this wasn't difficult. In fact, being the assistant allowed Kristin's normally narrow focus more freedom to take in what everyone else was doing.

Townsend directed Levin to gather evidence and poke around like a good observer. The special agent almost fainted when he saw how old the computer was. Kristin fully expected Lucas to have a similar reaction, but he hid it well, probably to minimize the youth jabs. O'Neill, on the other hand, acted like an archeologist who'd just dug up some incredible find. He held a floppy disc in his gloved hands with the same attention to fragility as the people who'd handled papyrus scrolls from the Library of Alexandria.

Hitchcock turned over the camera to Townsend and then busied the landing party guys with cleaning up broken glass and hauling busted equipment and furniture to a central pile so the investigators could do their jobs. Townsend took an obsessive number of pictures of every little thing, from every conceivable angle.

When all the heavy lifting and sweeping was done, Hitchcock took Brody aside. "Can you and Shan handle the shuttle?"

The lieutenant nodded once. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Ford should stay with Mika in the passenger compartment."

Brody cocked a brow and lowered his voice. "_You_ gonna tell him that?"

"I'm going to remind him the same way I reminded you. Safety of civilians comes first. She shouldn't be here."

"I agree she needs to go back to _seaQuest_, but c'mon, Commander. There's no safety issue on the shuttle."

Katie paused and tilted her head. "Really? You think we should let Piccolo comfort her instead?"

He scoffed.

"Exactly."

Brody didn't look convinced her plan would work but he didn't argue. Ford outranked them both.

_Jonathan had better stay with her_, Kristin thought. Wendy didn't have time for grief counseling right now and Katie was right about not handing her off to just anyone. Kristin couldn't hear the conversation between Ford and Hitchcock, but when Ford boarded _MR-6_, she heard him assign Shan and Brody to pilot.

Everyone in the first landing party went back to _seaQuest_ except Hitchcock. She stayed behind to help O'Neill pilot the second shuttle when they had the bodies and the computer equipment all secure, but that was going to be a while yet. Townsend asked Katie (quite nicely, in Kristin's opinion) to start loading all the evidence bags and camera equipment. Directly after that, Lucas and Tim had the computer stuff boxed up and ready. Townsend and Levin helped carry it all to _MR-4_.

"I've done all I can here," Wendy said at last. She lifted her computer tablet full of notes and sighed. "Let's get the body bags and take them back to _seaQuest_."

Although Kristin thought Wendy was taking more time than really necessary, it wasn't like GELF autopsies were everyday occurrences. Kristin certainly didn't want to do them herself, so she kept that opinion to herself and tried to be supportive. She gave Wendy a quick wink and then called down the hall, "Dr. Levin? We're ready for the body bags."

"Got 'em," he called back.

Levin, Townsend, Hitchcock, and O'Neill all helped load the bodies on the shuttle while Lucas checked one last time to be sure they got everything related to the computer and the two lady doctors gathered their instruments and notes.

Kristin felt drained, but it was probably more from having to study all the aftermath of so much violence than anything physical. She and Wendy pulled off their latex gloves with a loud snap. They sat on one of the boxes, taking a breather while the others were still busy. After fishing a couple of water bottles from one of their bags, Kristin handed one to Wendy and took a long swig from her own. The elder pushed the hair off her forehead and took a good look at her partner. Wendy looked like she'd aged about ten years.

"How are you holding up?" Kristin asked.

Her brows furrowed and she stared blankly, like she didn't understand the question or something.

_Maybe I caught her in the middle of deep concentration and she didn't hear me_. Kristin forced a tiny smile. "You okay?"

Wendy sighed deeply and shook her head. "Not really. I keep feeling light-headed."

The CMO snapped into doctor mode. Wendy instantly ceased being her colleague and became her patient. "When did you last eat?"

"I had an energy bar just before we left _seaQuest_ and a full breakfast this morning."

Kristin grabbed her wrist and took her pulse. A little high but not too much out of the norm for a stressful situation like a bloody murder scene. "What about your empathic senses? I didn't consider how taxing this could be on you. Do you want me to take over?"

She drew a deep breath and straightened her back. "No. I'll be fine after I eat and shower. I'm just tired."

Kristin placed her bare hand on Wendy's forehead. "You're running a low grade fever, Doctor."

A quirk of her brow. "Am I?" Wendy didn't fight when Kristin pressed the temperature probe to her skin.

After glancing at the result (37.5 C), she turned the readout so her patient could see.

The younger woman shrugged. "Appears so. Where's the Tylenol?"

Kristin found a bottle of pills in their satchel just before Levin arrived and picked up the last of the gear. Katie was right behind him. "You guys ready?"

Kristin stood. "We are. How about Lucas and Tim?"

"They packed up everything that looked even remotely electronic." Katie shook her head. "It's going to be like putting together a million-piece jigsaw puzzle when you don't have the picture of how it's supposed to look when you're done."

"Should I call for help?" Townsend butted in from somewhere behind Hitchcock.

Kristin gave the NCIS agent one of her steel-melting glares, but she kept her tone civil and tight. "By all means…_if_ you can find anyone any better." When Townsend didn't look deterred, she added, "Who is also security cleared with the UEO."

Hitchcock snorted a laugh. "Yeah, right. You're wasting your time to even _look_ for anyone better than Wolenczak."

Kristin still had trouble thinking of Lucas by surname. She should try to call him that more often. He was an adult and he'd been doing an exemplary job in the science department ever since the tour started. Nathan said he was valuable on the bridge too.

Wendy was the one to use a condescending tone as she patted Townsend on the shoulder. "You go right ahead and try, Alex."

Townsend cleared his throat. "We don't have time to waste. If you say this kid is the best, I'll have to hope he can deliver."

Kristin gave Townsend a slightly less scorching glare. "Just remember, it's a million-piece jigsaw puzzle. He's a genius, not God."

The agent nodded.

Hitchcock motioned them all toward the shuttle. Kristin took a seat next to Wendy and then gazed out the docking hatch one last time. All of Franklin Wise's life and research and dreams were contained between these walls, yet everything had been trampled like so much garbage. Now they were leaving the wreckage only nominally cleaned-up and the halls quiet and devoid of life. She stared out into the eerie silence. Wise had given up on humanity, but he had bright hope for the future of the oceans. Where was that hope now?

Hitchcock sealed Abalon's docking port first and then the shuttle's. The passengers were cramped with all the equipment, boxes, and the two body bags sharing the compartment. Wendy looked a little better than she had a few minutes ago. _Tylenol must be working_. Lucas looked a little overwhelmed, but he was in good spirits, joking around with Levin about antiquated computer hardware and some Italian man named Mario, evidently a pioneer in the field.

Townsend laid his head on the bulkhead and shut his eyes. He looked as haggard as Wendy did a few minutes ago. Kristin wanted to ask him if he was feeling all right, but she wasn't sure how to do it without sounding too nosy. _SeaQuest_ was like family and every crewmember, whether military or not, was her friend and her patient. This man was an outsider, and apparently under stress with this being his first solo case. When his breathing slowed almost immediately, Kristin decided to let him sleep.

However, when they pulled into Launch Bay, docked, and opened the pressure doors, Townsend slept through all the normal bumps and jostling. Kristin decided she'd better check him. The man would probably have kittens if his precious evidence was ever out of his direct custody and they were about to disembark.

"Mr. Townsend?" she whispered.

Joshua, Wendy, and Lucas started gathering equipment. The NCIS agent didn't stir.

Wendy nudged his knee. "Alex!"

He jolted awake and whipped his head around, assessing his situation.

"Sorry," Kristin said in her best bedside manner voice. "We're back at _seaQuest_. I thought you might want to secure your evidence."

He relaxed a little once he had enough information to realize he wasn't in danger.

"Bad dream?" Wendy asked.

A sigh. "Something like that," he muttered. "Thanks for the wake-up call. I don't have time to sleep right now."

Wendy put her hand in front of his chest, ostensibly to prevent him from standing. Townsend ignored it until her hand was pressing enough to restrain him. "If you're exhausted, _make_ time." She said it in that 'I'm-a-doctor' authoritative voice, but devoid of the condescending tone she'd used when discussing the futility of finding a better computer tech than Lucas.

He nodded with a defeated look.

Wendy's expression changed abruptly, like Nathan's often did when an important idea hit him. She removed her hand from his chest and looked at it. "Kristin, check his temp."

Kristin didn't even think before she placed her palm on his forehead. What had her mentor always said? Use your own senses first, instruments second. Under most circumstances, she could gauge a patient's body temperature within three-tenths of a degree with just her well-trained hand. "Warmer than yours," she reported. "But only by a tenth or two."

Wendy had the temp sensor out and Kristin's prediction proven in less than twenty seconds.

"Mr. Townsend, you have a fever. I'd like to see you in Medbay."

He chuckled lightly. "I'm fine. I'll take some aspirin, okay?"

Kristin arched her brow dangerously. "I am the chief medical officer on _seaQuest_. Please don't force me to have you dragged in."

"She'll do it, too," Lucas warned him as he walked by carrying a large box.

"She's also the captain's wife," Levin said. "You _don't_ want to cross her, trust me."

"All right, all right, I'll come after I've locked up all the evidence."

Kristin folded her arms over her chest. "You've got twenty minutes before I send out the Marines."

Wendy tried to play good cop. "If you need help with this, just say so. Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock will have ten guys in here two minutes."

His wide-eyed nod suggested he believed them. Two people getting sudden fevers so closely together? Kristin's internal coincidence meter was screaming already. On a whim, and because he was convenient, she pressed her hand to Lucas's forehead. But his forehead wasn't the slightest warm. Relieved but not completely placated, she asked, "Anyone else feeling under the weather?"

Everyone's heads shook.

"You feel anything at all, I want you in Medbay," she said.

"I'm starved. Does that count?" Tim said from back in the cockpit. My, but wasn't he in a chipper mood after playing archeologist.

Kristin smirked at him. "No, Lieutenant. Go eat. But if you feel weak after that, _then_ come see me."

He raised his hands in surrender. "You got it, Doc."

Gurneys arrived along with four medics. They lifted each body bag together and then split up in pairs to 'drive' the gurneys out toward the mag-lev.

Wendy watched and then sighed after them. "I'd better get down there. Lots of work to do."

"I'm coming with you," Kristin said. She planned to get a little pushier with her help now she knew Wendy had that fever. Maybe she could prod her to get more rest.

Ford appeared in the doorway. "Dr. Westphalen, may I have a second?" he asked in that neutral-but-urgent tone of his.

"Of course." Kristin nodded to Wendy to go on ahead of her, then turned back to Ford. "What can I do for you, Commander? Is Mika all right?"

He lowered his voice to a nearly secretive level. "She's with the chaplain right now. That isn't what I wanted to discuss."

Kristin didn't like this one bit. Ford was not a man for drama. He didn't gossip and he didn't play games with information. He had a reason for the whispering and it didn't bode well. She nodded that she'd heard him, but didn't push for more.

He continued without a beat. "Piccolo and Brody both reported dizziness and fatigue, but neither have been pulling extra hours."

_Keep calm, Kristin. It could be anything_. "Dr. Smith and Agent Townsend were both feeling a little tired too. Did either of them have a fever?"

"That's your call. They're waiting for you in Medbay."

"You usually don't send crew to Medbay simply for being tired. What's your _real_ concern?"

"I've seen Tony crack jokes after being beaten by an Amazonian dictator and he's not joking now. Jim doesn't admit any kind impairment readily, so when he feels sick enough to say so, I know it's not minor. They aren't just tired, Doctor, and if you have two more people with the same symptoms, maybe I have good reason to be concerned."

"Agreed, Commander. But until I have a better idea what we're dealing with, let's not fan the flames of scuttlebutt any more than necessary, hmm?"

"Should I tell the captain?"

She wasn't sure what he meant and searched his face for context.

"Not that I'd ever lie to him," he added quickly.

"No, I didn't think you would. You can send him to Medbay when he has a free moment or I'll call him when I know more. Either way."

He nodded.

"Do me a favor and keep an eye on all the landing party members." Kristin tried not to sound ominous, but the attempt rang hollow in her ears. Too bad it was too late for quarantine. _MR-6_ had been back at least an hour before they arrived in _MR-4_.

A dip of his head. "Understood."

Kristin hurried down to Medbay with a knot in her stomach. Four people showing similar symptoms in such a short time interval? No, this was not good. Not good at all.


	61. Chapter 84

**Chapter 84**

No sooner had Kristin examined Piccolo, Townsend, and Brody, dispensed some Tylenol, and sent them each to their quarters to lie down, but the chaplain escorted Mika into Medbay with the same symptoms. The doctor gave her Tylenol as well and sent her to the guest quarters. She hadn't forced anyone to stay in Medbay yet. Distressing as it was to see such rapid onset and multiple patients, a low grade fever and fatigue didn't really constitute an emergency. It could just be a mild flu.

Franklin Wise led a very isolated existence. He probably didn't have anything but the oldest of vaccinations, and it was highly likely Kaman and Shapra never received any at all. They could have caught some random little malady from the killer which was then transmitted to the landing party through the bodies. More than half of those who had gone to Abalon, including Kristin, were just fine.

As soon as Mika left, Kristin checked in on the autopsy room. Wendy still looked very tired. Sweat dotted her brow, but that wasn't unusual when one didn't have an assistant to swab your forehead.

"Did you get something to eat?"

Wendy looked up from her work with an irritated expression Kristin rarely saw. "Yes, Doctor, I ate. No, I obviously haven't slept yet. No, my temp is not down, and I'd appreciate it if you left me the hell alone."

Kristin blinked back her surprise. She studied the younger doctor a moment. The Wendy she knew would have apologized for an outburst like that. This Wendy went back to carving on the corpse without even giving her supervisor a second look.

"Wendy," Kristin said gently, "they're not going anywhere. Why don't you take a break?"

"Why? So you can take over and claim all the credit when this turns out to be important? You gave me the lead. Now get out of my way and let me do my job."

_Credit?_ Kristin didn't give a damn about who got credit for a couple of routine autopsies. Wendy knew her better than that. "No, I had no intention of taking over or taking credit. I was offering to _help_. Perhaps you'd rather have Joshua help you?"

"I don't need any help," she practically snarled.

_The hell you don't._

"That's right. I don't. I'm a damned good doctor and I've had a lot more experience with GELFs than you or Levin."

Kristin lowered her voice. "I didn't say anything, Wendy. You're scanning me."

"You're practically screaming!"

The older doctor exuded calm. This was a symptom, not a behavior problem. "No I'm not. I recommended you for this, even told the captain to get the admiral to force it if Townsend didn't like it. Why would I try to take that away?"

Wendy didn't look up or say anything.

Kristin hardened her voice a little but kept the volume low. "I have a patient who is manifesting fatigue, irritability, and irrationality. She's violating her own ethics and shifting blame for it. _You_ tell _me_ what I should think."

She finally looked up from the examination table. The initial look on her face was so foreign it frightened Kristin, but as soon as she focused her gaze straight into Kristin's eyes, that look melted and she dropped her scalpel.

"Oh god, Kristin, I'm sorry." She wiped her lab coat sleeve over her forehead and tried, unsuccessfully, to push her hair out of her face. "You're right. The stress is getting to me."

"I think it's more than just a little stress. You need some sleep. Levin and I will take the cross-sections, but leave the bodies for you to deal with tomorrow, all right?"

She nodded wearily.

"What's your temp?"

Wendy held her gloved hands up. They were covered in dark, dead blood. "I don't think I should use the probe right now."

"Can I touch you?" Kristin asked. "You're not going to yell at me or anything?" She was only half-joking.

"Go ahead," Wendy said, moving her hands away from her body. She didn't smirk or show any sign she'd caught the weak attempt at humor.

Kristin didn't bother with her hand this time. She needed an official number for the records and she was a little afraid that touching might abet Wendy's lowered ability to hold back her empathic senses. She'd already been in Kristin's head once and if it happened again, she might read how worried Kristin was becoming.

"Thirty-seven point nine," she reported. _And that was after taking Tylenol_. "Townsend, Piccolo, Brody, and Mika all have fever and fatigue, too. If your fever doesn't come down soon, don't plan on doing any autopsies."

Wendy scowled and opened her mouth to protest, "But—"

Kristin matched her scowl and shook a finger in her face. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Doctor. If you weren't sick yourself, you'd be just as concerned about this as I am."

"You're making a mountain out of a molehill," Wendy muttered. She finished whatever she was doing, set her tools down, and rolled the gurney toward the morgue cooler. This was a new addition to _seaQuest II_. No longer did scientists have to use the galley refrigerators to cool down their experiments or keep dead Deinosuchi from causing an entire deck to reek to high heaven. Even in body bags, no one really wanted dead people in the same place as their food.

_Maybe_, Kristin thought. She really hoped this _was_ a molehill. Four-tenths of a degree in ninety minutes wouldn't have concerned her so much had it not been for the antipyretics.

It could be nothing. She knew that. She knew Wendy knew that. Still, something about all this seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She'd seen some very strange stuff in Birmingham. Perhaps this was just reminding something she'd seen in the slum clinic.

"For the record, Doctor," Wendy said stiffly. "I'm halting my work under protest."

Kristin crossed her arms. "Duly noted, Dr. Smith. Go to bed. Take a sedative if you have to. Don't show up here for at least eight hours."

"Fine."

"If you need longer than that, take it. Don't set an alarm."

Wendy glared at her for a long moment, huffed loudly, spun around, and stormed out.

She nearly collided with Nathan in the hatchway. He said "Excuse me, Doctor," but Wendy didn't slow down or acknowledge him. He looked after her a moment and then turned to Kristin. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Was that our calm and understanding Chief Psychologist?" he asked sarcastically.

"It was. She's running a fever and behaving oddly. I played the CMO card and sent her to bed."

"She didn't look too happy about it."

Kristin shrugged. "She's dedicated, not unlike some others on this boat." She locked eyes with her husband for a meaningful glance.

"Commander Ford said you wanted to see me."

She nodded. "Five out of the thirteen people we sent to Abalon are presenting low-grade fevers, fatigue, and in one case, irritability." She canted her head out the door. "The others might be irritable too, but I sent them to their quarters to rest, so I wouldn't know."

"Which five?"

"Smith, Piccolo, Brody, Townsend, and Mika."

He nodded thoughtfully. "What about Lucas?"

He had seen Lucas much more recently than she had. "He was fine two hours ago. Has anything changed since then?"

"He and O'Neill are frustrated with that antique computer, but he doesn't seem to be irritable or fatigued."

"Good. Let's preclude that possibility by making sure everyone from the landing party gets off-duty on time."

A decisive nod. "Done."

"Luckily, Townsend is among my patients, so he's in no position to breathe down our necks about the autopsies. I still think Wendy should do them when she's feeling better."

"From what Hitchcock and Ford tell me, the cause of death looks pretty cut-and-dried anyway."

"Agreed. Still, we don't want to miss anything that might help us find Dr. Wise."

The look on her husband's face betrayed he was thinking the same thing she was. There was nothing inside those violated bodies that would help them. They had both been shot at close range with spear guns. There was no ambiguity, no mystery to it. Kristin had removed the spears (or, as Brody liked to put it, "harpoons") at the scene. They'd been bagged and were now part of Townsend's evidence cache. It was possible, though unlikely, they might find fingerprints on the shafts. But even if they did, the prints would probably belong to Kaman, Shapra, or Wise. The spear guns were even older than the computer. Whoever invaded Abalon used their own weapons against them.

"Is there any reason to stay here?" Nathan asked.

Kristin blinked. "I don't think so. Townsend loaded up everything he needed and we have photographs of the entire complex. Do you have a lead?"

"Not yet, but despite their whining, I think our resident computer experts are close to finding something. I just wanted to be sure I had your go-ahead to leave when they drop it in our laps."

She let a smile creep across her face. "So you think they really aren't as stumped as they want us to think?"

He chuckled. "Oh, they're stumped all right. They have every right to be, too. You should see the ward room with all those antique circuits laid out like bones from a dinosaur dig."

Kristin made a mental note to go check on Lucas soon. She didn't want to miss the sight, since this whole scenario was destined to become an epic sea tale, full of all kinds of embellishments later. "Funny you should put it that way. O'Neill was acting more like an archeologist than a computer expert at the scene."

He nodded. "I think that's a good way to look at this. If they expect it to be anything like modern computers, it just adds to their frustration. But if they assume it's an abacus or an old manual typewriter, they just might find something."

"Townsend asked us if he should call in another computer expert—maybe someone with more _experience_." She put just the right intonation on the word so he would know he'd really been anxious because of Lucas's age.

A scoff. "Good luck with _that_."

She smiled. "Exactly what Hitchcock said." Kristin didn't burden him with her wishes, but it sure would be great to get Katie back on board permanently.

"I want her back too."

He knew her too well, but she couldn't let him get away with it. Well, not without some flirtatious banter, anyway. They were alone, but she lowered her voice for effect. "I just sent the empathic doctor off to bed for getting in my head. Am I going to have to relieve the captain of duty too?"

He reached down and took her hand and then let his eyes rest easily on hers. His voice was a throaty whisper. "Would I be ordered to bed, Doctor?"

She couldn't resist his lips and leaned in for a short but sweet kiss. "Yes, I definitely think you need to be confined to quarters."

He gently traced her forehead with a finger, pushing a stray strand of hair back in place. "Would I get a house call?"

"As soon as Levin and I prepare some slides. I promised Wendy that much."

He kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear, "Don't be too long."


	62. Chapter 85

**Chapter 85**

Lucas stood at the end of the table where he and Tim had laid out all the parts from Dr. Wise's facility. _What a load of junk_. Tim kept trying to make this more exciting by treating the useless gizmos and thing-a-ma-bobs as if they were super-cool artifacts. Lucas sighed and shook his head. "You know this is hopeless, right?"'

The lieutenant shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I was ordered to do something impossible."

"How do you do that?"

"What?" He tore his intense gaze off the little pile of parts he was fiddling with and blinked up through his glasses.

"How do you keep doing something when it's pointless?"

Another shrug. "That's what I'm here for."

"Buzz! Wrong answer. C'mon…really?"

Tim sighed. "The same way you can keep at it when you think you can find something no one else can."

"But I usually _do _find something no one else could."

"So you're saying the rest of us should just give up when we're not as smart as you?" He said it with humor, but it was also clear he meant it.

"No I—" Lucas stopped mid-sentence. Was he that stuck up?

"Look, just because we don't always succeed at getting there doesn't mean we shouldn't try. Besides, when you're in the Navy, you're not allowed to say no."

The teen's voice was quieter, more thoughtful. "I've seen other military guys. They say 'yes sir' and they follow orders but you can tell they think it's a waste of time or stupid."

"That happens."

"You're not acting like that. That's what I mean. How do you do _that_?"

"Captain Bridger wouldn't ask us to do this if it wasn't important or if he didn't have confidence in us."

"Yeah, I get that part. I hate letting him down. But that just makes it harder when he wants the moon and I can't deliver." He was approaching a whine now and cringed inwardly. _I am __**not**__ going to be the whiney kid_.

Tim laughed. "You deliver the moon so much you make everyone else feel like a moron."

"Morons, really?"

"Really." Tim said it with the conviction of it being common knowledge and completely obvious. He didn't bother to cloak it in a joke. "Can you hand me the pliers?" he asked, pointing at the needle-nosed pair just out of his reach.

Lucas handed him the pliers and then watched as Tim tightened wires and jiggled the funky little pieces. A spark fizzed on the circuit and the old-fashioned picture tube monitor crackled to life. It was just yellow raster font on a tiny black screen and the letters and numbers were jumbled in such disarray it was unintelligible, but he'd actually made the piece of junk _work_. "You did it!" Lucas mused.

"Don't act so surprised. We're not at the moon yet."

"Neither of you better dare be contemplating the space program," Dr. Westphalen's voice boomed out from the doorway.

"No way," Tim said almost as if the idea repulsed him. He barely nodded an acknowledgement of the doctor's presence otherwise, choosing to ignore her in favor of the mass of wires he was trying to coax into life like Frankenstein's monster.

Lucas wasn't all that interested in space either, but this was Dr. Westphalen they were talking to and he couldn't resist playing with her. He flashed her an angelic smile. "Why not? I hear they pay better and nobody asks them to go collect old Mercury rockets and figure out how to make them work."

"Yes, well, you never know." She folded her arms over her chest. "There's almost as much trash in space as in the oceans. Salvage is big business, I hear."

"Well, at least space trash is useful," he countered.

"Not really. Only a small minority of it is. It's knowing what's useful that's the trick." A frown marred her features. Although she'd been the one to bring it up, the topic of pollution was obviously bothering her more than she'd intended. A better look at her face revealed lines of weariness. She'd been stuck autopsying murder victims. She was too kindhearted a soul to have to dwell on that kind of ugliness for long.

Suddenly, Lucas didn't care about yanking her chain so much. "Who cares?" he quipped. "Other than the ISS, no one lives in space. I'd rather figure out how to clean up our oceans than go be some kind of galactic junk man."

Tim glanced up, one brow raised under his thick lenses. Perhaps he'd thought Lucas was calling _him_ the galactic junk man. Then again, Tim had all but called _himself_ a moron a few seconds ago. Just before he looked away again, Lucas figured it out. Tim recognized exactly what he was doing: getting all idealistic and smarmy to try to cheer up the doctor. The look was letting him know he hadn't fooled _him_, and by extension, probably not her either.

She beamed a smile. "How's it coming?"

"I'm whining a lot while Dr. Frankenstein over there is making all the progress." Lucas crooked a thumb at Tim.

Tim smirked but he nodded and adopted on his best movie-mimic voice as he said, "It's alive!"

"That's incredible," she said.

Tim shrugged. "So far, all that means is a bunch of monochrome hen's scratch on a cathode ray tube." He turned the monitor so she could see the screen.

"Then it's time the smarty pants whiner pulled his weight and made sense of the hen's scratch," she scolded lightly, now giving Lucas her official don't-you-dare-make-the-science-department-look-bad scowl.

The teen raised his hands. "You're right. I'm on it. Geeze, slavedrivers."

"Actually," Captain Bridger's voice cut in from behind, "she's quite the opposite. Medical orders are no one puts in extra hours right now. You two are overdue. Scram, both of you."

Tim flipped a switch and cut the power. "Aye, sir." He stood and pushed in his chair.

_Does he have to work at pretending like it's no big deal just to pull the plug abruptly like that when he's just made a major break-though, or is he really tired?_ The whole stupid project had just become interesting in the last two minutes. "I was only kidding about the slavedriver thing. I could work on it some more."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather you got some sleep."

"And you might want to stay clear of your roommate," Dr. Westphalen added. "He and a few others appear to be coming down with something. I sent him to bed a few hours ago."

Lucas nodded, trying not to think of all the reasons Tony would fake a cold to get out of duty. He hadn't looked sick over on Abalon. Still, it was unspoken between them that they didn't snitch on each other unless prodded. He tried to keep his expression neutral as set down his tools and stood.

Tim scooted by, nodding politely as he passed the couple in the door. "Good night, Captain, Doctor."

"Good night, Lieutenant," they said back.

Dr. Westphalen turned back to look at him. "Are you feeling all right? Tired? Irritable?"

Sheesh, didn't he just get done _saying_ he wasn't tired? He was about to point that out when he saw the look of concern clouding the doctor's eyes.

"I'm fine. Really. Maybe you guys need some sleep though."

The doctor ribbed her husband. "Not even the captain is exempt from doctor's orders."

Lucas figured they were going to watch him to make sure he left. He had to admit it was somewhat warranted. He really wanted to play with the antique toys now that Tim had done the hard part. But it wasn't worth fighting over, nor was it so strong an itch he couldn't set it aside for tomorrow. He hit the lights, headed out the door, and waved. "'Night."

"Good night, Lucas," they said together.

Once out of their sight, he considered heading for the crew lounge to see who else was about. If he was really off duty, he should be allowed to socialize, right? He had an attack of conscience and skipped it. Staying up would just make it harder to stay away from the toys. He went straight to his quarters.

He'd forgotten all about Tony supposedly being sick until he opened the hatch and saw the lights on. Lucas barreled down the metal steps. "Well, what's the scam, or do I want to know?"

Tony was seated on the bed, but the minute Lucas spoke, he startled, like he had somehow missed the hatch wheel turn and big feet clunking down the steps. "Huh? What scam?"

Lucas chuckled. "You, pretending to be sick." He finally got close enough to see his roomie's face. Sweat covered his brow and the guy looked confused. "Tony?"

"How'd I get here?" he asked. His eyes didn't focus.

"You told Dr. Westphalen you weren't feeling good. She sent you to bed."

"I, uh…" He trailed off.

Lucas had to admit he looked terrible. "Maybe you should go to Medbay," he suggested. Even if Dr. Westphalen was off-duty, Dr. Levin or Dr. Smith would be there.

"Yeah," Tony muttered.

The teen watched. Tony jerked forward a little, like he started to get up, but changed his mind. His whole body shivered. Lucas ran to the bed. "Tony? You okay, man?"

Tony's body continued to shake a little, but the shake of his head was purposeful. "Can't stop," he whimpered.

Lucas pulled his PAL off his belt. "Dr. Westphalen? Medbay?"

"What is it, Lucas?" came Dr. Westphalen's unmistakable voice. She'd heard his panic and was doing her best calm-yet-urgent bedside manner routine.

"Tony's having some kind of convulsion. Somebody better get down here."

"On my way."

"Help's on the way," he whispered to Tony. Déjà vu hit hard. This was almost exactly like the time Clay Marshall planted a nightmare in Tony's head. That had ended badly for everyone. Lucas draped a blanket around Tony's shoulders and whispered, "Did you dream anything?"

The shivers seemed to subside when Lucas touched him. "Never got to sleep. Can't lie down."

"Whaddya mean, you can't lie down?"

His head and body twitched again. He looked like he was trying to move, but his body wasn't cooperating.

Lucas patted him on the back. "Nevermind. It's okay."

Dr. Westphalen burst through the hatch, breathing hard. "All right, Mr. Piccolo, you've earned a housecall. What seems to be the trouble, hmm?"

The twitching increased again. "Sh-shaking."

"He has more trouble when he's trying to move," Lucas said, backing away to give the doctor plenty of space. The captain stood in the hatchway, watching in silence.

She nodded at Lucas and then turned back to Tony. "Don't try to move anymore," she said soothingly. "Try to relax."

He drew a deep breath and the shaking diminished.

"Good. Just take it easy." Dr. Westphalen placed her hand on his forehead. She pulled out a thermal probe next and pressed the sensor where her hand had been. Lucas had always wanted to ask her why she bothered touching first when she was going to use the instrument anyway. However, he suspected it was more about comforting human contact than any medical procedure. Her hands were soft and gentle and they always put Lucas at ease.

The doctor glanced at the readout and then looked up at the captain with slanted brows. She shook her head tightly for the split-second she held his gaze and then she turned back to Tony and let her brows relax. "You, sailor, have a fever and some serious muscle spasms there. Let's get you down to Medbay for some tests, hmm?"

Tony nodded with a little bit of twitching.

"What's going on?" Dr. Smith's voice said from the hall. "Lucas said Tony was having convulsions."

"I've got it, Wendy," Dr. Westphalen called back. The two of them couldn't see each other the way the captain was blocking the door.

"Don't you dismiss me like some student nurse! He was _my_ patient before you ever met him."

The captain turned and faced the younger doctor. Wendy looked like she was ready to start a chick fight right there in his quarters. Captain Bridger's voice was calm and commanding, "Aren't you supposed to be in bed, Doctor? If Dr. Westphalen says she can handle this, then there's no need for you to get all excited."

"Excited?" Wendy surged forward with a grunt. The captain caught her arms and held her tight. He looked at first like he was going to scold Wendy, but instead he turned to Dr. Westphalen. "Kristin, she's burning up."

"Get her down to Medbay."

He nodded and then turned back to the woman held tight by her forearms. "You're not well, Doctor. You will allow me to escort you to Medbay, or I'll carry you there. Your choice."

Lucas knew he'd do it and Wendy of all people knew he would too. She growled again and wrenched her arms out of his grasp, then stormed off in a huff.

"Stay with her," Dr. Westphalen urged. "I'll get some medics down here to help with Piccolo."

The captain nodded and jogged off after Wendy.

Dr. Westphalen picked up her PAL and started calling medics out of bed. She asked for two to come down to Lucas's quarters with a stretcher while she sent others to check on Brody, Townsend, and Mika. "If their temps are above 38 or they're showing signs of irritability or motor control issues, I want them brought to Medbay."

Lucas was starting to feel badly for having assumed Tony was faking anything. "Is he gonna be okay?" he whispered.

She flashed that reassuring-doctor smile at him but Lucas could see the doubt behind her eyes. She was scared.


	63. Chapter 86

**Chapter 86**

_It could still be the flu_, Kristin told herself. The crew wouldn't be inoculated for an older strain and considering where all these people had been, this could easily be nothing more than a twentieth century nuisance bug. It couldn't be too virulent if sixty percent of those exposed remained completely unaffected, right?

Nathan had stayed with Wendy, which was a good thing, considering how irritable she'd become. However, it was Levin who held her hand and calmed her down enough to get a blood sample. Levin wasn't wearing a surgical mask himself, but Kristin highly suspected he'd been the one to make sure all the other medical workers put them on.

"Captain, you should probably be masked," Kristin called as she directed the stretcher-bearers to a bed for Piccolo. Medbay was chaotic with four other beds already occupied and medics and nurses scrambling all over.

Nathan looked straight at her. She had to be a mess by now. Her hair hadn't seen a comb for fourteen hours and she could feel her bun sagging. She was sticky with sweat and she could smell her own body odor and the blood stains from the murder victims on her lab coat.

"Don't you think it's a little late for that, Kristin?"

In the bedlam, it took a second for his words to register, but he was right. They'd kissed. Worse, he'd held Wendy back. He'd already been as exposed as he could get. Since Kristin wasn't planning on wearing a mask either, she answered with a heavy sigh and a nodded assent. If she was safe, chances were, so was he. Regardless, she didn't have time to worry about him right now.

"All right, let's hear what we're dealing with," she barked out over the bedlam.

Dr. Levin went first, calling out symptoms loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Brody and Wise have temps of 38.2. Dr. Smith's is 38. All three have headaches, muscle aches, and minor motor control issues."

"Townsend's temp is 38.1," a nurse reported. "He's shivering and sweating at the same time."

Kristin cast a quick glance at him. He was sitting up on a bed, brows slanted in annoyance. "I'm fine. I just want to go back to my room," he grumped.

"You are not fine, Mr. Special Agent, and you are hereby officially confined in Medbay until I say different." She shot a quick look in the direction of her husband as a tacit threat, then whipped her attention back to the nurse. "Sherry, get a blood sample and then get a blanket on him."

"Yes, Doctor."

She would examine him right after she got Piccolo settled. The medics had just got the petty officer transferred from the stretcher to the bed, although it was something of a feat because he couldn't lie down straight. They left him curled in a fetal position, on his side. She leaned over him and touched his forehead. She hadn't given him any more antipyretics since checking his temp before, but she was checking to see how much of the moisture had returned in the scant fifteen minutes since she last wiped it. He was still warm and almost as wet. "I'm going to need a blood sample, Mr. Piccolo," she said, trying to keep her tone routine.

"G-go ahead, D-Doc," he said with difficulty. His arms were so tense she wouldn't have to ask him to make a fist. He had veins bulging all over the place.

She turned to fetch a syringe and noticed Lucas standing in the doorway with that deer-in-the-headlights look on his young face. She had to give him credit for staying out of the way and not asking annoying questions she wouldn't have any answers to. Nathan was moving toward him, so they'd have each other for support. Kristin managed a quick wink in the meantime. Although she still didn't know what they were dealing with, it was definitely more serious than a simple cold. If Lucas hadn't found Tony when he did, everyone would probably still be alone in their respective quarters, getting worse without anyone knowing.

Kristin drew the blood from Tony's bicep and then patted his arm and spoke in her most sympathetic voice. "I'd give you a muscle relaxer, but I want to rule out a few things first. Just hang tight." Sailors were tough and almost always kept their fears hidden, but she couldn't help thinking he looked very vulnerable and small, tensed up in a frightened little ball.

As she backed away from her patient, she nodded to Lucas. "You can come in now if you want."

He stepped forward tentatively, staring at Tony's quivering form and then looking up at her.

"I don't know what it is yet, but you did the right thing." She held up the vial of blood. "We have blood to test and waiting until morning would have put us that much behind. Everyone else was in private quarters and probably wouldn't have come if we hadn't dragged them out of bed."

"Thanks a lot, Lucas," Brody sneered sardonically.

"You're out of line, Lieutenant," Nathan warned.

"It's okay, Captain," Lucas whispered.

"No, it's not. Forgivable, yes, but not 'okay'."

"It's the fever talking," Kristin assured them. "He'll apologize later."

Just then, Dagwood appeared in the door.

"This is a bad time to clean," Kristin told him. "We're rather busy at the moment."

His big mottled face scrunched up. "Lucas said Tony was sick on the PAL. Is he okay?"

Kristin laid her hand on Dagwood's shoulder. "He is sick, but we're taking care of him. Why don't you—" She had intended to tell him to go clean the crew lounge or the gym, but the skin beneath his shirt was much warmer than she'd expected. "Dagwood, did you come here to see Tony?"

"Dr. Smith said I could come here when I don't feel good."

"What's wrong, Dagwood?" Wendy asked, springing up.

Kristin made sure Levin saw Wendy and would keep her from getting out of bed.

"Dr. Smith is sick right now too, Dagwood," Kristin said, taking his arm and leading him to the last empty bed. Any more patients and they'd have to open up the auxiliary wing. "Would you let me be your doctor this time?"

"Dr. Westphalen is a really good doctor," Lucas said.

"It's all right, Dagwood," Wendy assured him. Levin coaxed her to lie back down without even speaking. Kristin wanted to kick herself for not making the time to ask Wendy how her date with Joshua had been. Maybe they were closer now than she realized. In any case, his presence was helping Wendy keep her irritation and paranoia in check. At least for now.

Dagwood nodded at Wendy's permission and looked at Kristin. "Okay," he said.

She pressed the temperature probe to his forehead. Ordinarily, she'd just enter the result in his computerized med log, but she and Levin were tackling this as a team and he needed to know just as much as she did. "Thirty eight-point-one," she reported.

"His normal is lower than ours," Wendy said weakly. She didn't lift her head this time.

Kristin wanted to tell her she knew that already and would Wendy please just rest and trust her, but then she would be the one getting snappy. But the fact that reaction crossed her mind was a little worrying. If she and Levin ended up sick, there was really only one other staff doctor. He was a decent enough, but he'd be overwhelmed with the weight of an epidemic on his shoulders alone. She shuddered lightly at the thought and forced her attention back to the large GELF patient.

"Tell me what's wrong," she coaxed.

"My hand won't open." He thrust his big arm in front of her, showing a balled fist. His hand shook a little while his face scrunched up again. The fingers moved a little with his obvious effort, but not much.

She gently moved his hand aside. "I see that. You can stop trying to open it. Anything else?"

"I feel hot."

"That's to be expected. You have a fever. Anything else?"

"I feel…" He looked like he didn't have the vocabulary to explain it.

Kristin was impatient, but she knew pressure wouldn't help him express himself.

"I feel like I want to punch."

"Has someone made you angry?"

"No. I don't want to punch a person. I want to punch a wall."

Nathan had mentioned his tremendous strength. If he punched the wrong wall, they could have a hull breach. She made her tone soothing again. "Then you did the right thing to come here and tell us, Dagwood. I know you're not violent. It's the sickness. It makes everyone feel irritable."

His head tilted and his brows slanted. Despite his enormous size, he had the most childlike expressions and this one was clearly confusion.

"Grouchy," Lucas supplied.

Dagwood nodded. "I don't wanna be grouchy. Is Dr. Smith grouchy?"

"Yes," Lucas, Nathan, and Kristin all chorused.

"I am _not_," Wendy said half-heartedly. She must have realized arguing only proved their point.

"Dr. Westphalen, may I see you in the consult room?" Levin asked.

She surveyed the main room. Three nurses and four medics were floating around, making all the patients comfortable and taking notes on their observations. Nathan and Lucas stood between the beds holding Piccolo and Dagwood. If anyone lost control, there were enough strong men to handle it. Well, unless it was Dagwood. Surely someone would hit him with a hypospray of sedative if they needed to. Besides, he looked calm at the moment.

"Why don't you just lie down, Dagwood. I'm going to talk to Dr. Levin, but I'll just be in the other room." She gestured toward the door so he understood she wasn't abandoning him.

"Okay," he said.

"Sherry, go ahead and get Dagwood a blanket. I'll draw his blood myself when I get back."

The nurse nodded, looking relieved she didn't have to get near him with a needle. A lot of the crew were afraid of the big GELF even when he wasn't admitting to wanting to punch something.

Kristin made a quick eye contact with Nathan. He wore his concerned captain face, that steely, determined jawset that spoke volumes. He would go to any length to protect his crew from any kind of threat, viral or otherwise. A very slight nod told her he'd taken in the situation and would watch the room in her absence.

She hurried to the consult room on Levin's heels. He closed the hatch when they were both inside. Most of the walls on _seaQuest_ were rather thin and voices could carry through them. However, Medbay was more protected than other parts of the boat and many of the rooms were built watertight so they could shut the hatch against leaks. This room was also a small isolation ward, which meant it could be sealed against germs as well. Unless they started yelling, no one else would be able to hear.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Joshua's face was so intent it worried her. Whatever he was thinking was probably not some inconvenient but innocuous flu.

Kristin, on the other hand, had lost the capacity to think straight. She was exhausted and worried and she knew she still had blood to analyze and symptoms to compare before she could even think about sleep. She'd long since switched to auto-pilot. She gave him a blank stare. He'd have to spell it out.

"_Aqua Sphere 7_? The_ Liberté_?"

It all came back in a rush. Levin and Ford and group of replacement scientists for _Aqua Sphere 7_ had contracted a genetically-engineered form of meningitis which had been developed in space by the North Sea Confederation. Dr. Guy Peché had helped them find a cure. Commander Ford had presented the very same problem with his hand as Dagwood now had and he'd been even more petulant than Wendy. The scientists stationed on _Aqua Sphere 7_ had all become so irritable and violent, they'd killed each other. Fever, sweating, and loss of motor control. It all fit.

That also explained why they only had patients now who hadn't been on _seaQuest_ on the first tour. Kristin had immunized all 212 people aboard _seaQuest_ personally. Well, with help from Dr. Peché. The only surviving samples of the disease had been used, along with Dr. Peché's testimony, to force the North Sea Confederation to come clean and halt all their secret bio-weapons research. _Bio-weapons? Oh dear god. Zellar_.

She knew her intuition wasn't clouded by lack of sleep. However, she also knew intuition wasn't science. She didn't need Levin doubting her rationality right now. "How the hell would that have got on Abalon? We turned the 'canister of death' over to the CDC. It's supposed to be in an underground vault capable of withstanding a syntium bomb."

Levin shook his head. "I don't know, but you've got to admit the resemblance is there."

Kristin pushed all her Zellar alarms off to the side. "Yes, you're right. Let's analyze all the blood samples and verify your theory, then we'll go from there."

He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Kristin, did you save any of the antidote?"

She sighed and shook her head. "They made me give it all up." She'd argued earnestly for them to just destroy that infernal canister and its unholy contents, but they kept the pathogen for 'research', reassuring her that it would be safe because they were keeping the antidote as well. "Even if I'd snuck some out, it would be in gone now in Wolenczak's Folly." She'd never use the popular label around Lucas, of course, but that was what everyone else called the lava bed where _seaQuest I_ had been sacrificed.

"The CDC will airlift some out to us if we confirm it, right?"

Of course they would. They'd better. She wasn't going to let six more people die of this. Dr. Peché would help her if necessary. He'd turned his life around and become a staunch opponent of bio-warfare. The only reason the CDC wouldn't give up some antidote was if they didn't have it. Kristin didn't like entertaining the thought, but if the pathogen had been stolen, it was quite possible the antidote was stolen too. Joshua's eyes still sought her answer. "Right," she said. Almost convincingly.


	64. Chapter 87

**Chapter 87**

Kristin watched over Levin's shoulder while he ran the blood samples through computer analysis. The results screen flashed: "Four human, two unknown trans-human subjects."

She rolled her eyes. "Designate Dagwood's as alpha model K and let's call Mika franklin model omega."

"Franklin model omega?"

"Kaman and Shapra were clearly earlier tries," Kristin said in her most clinical tone. "Mika was his latest."

He forced a cough. "She could have been delta or gamma." Implying, of course, Franklin Wise, wherever he was, could now be working on tweaking her traits to come out with the next 'improvement'.

Kristin didn't think so. Mika was perfection to him and that was why it hurt so much when she chose to leave him. Kristin only had her mothering instinct to go on, but she suspected Dr. Wise had quit genetic engineering after Mika because he couldn't bear to be abandoned again. If he was 'back in business', it was probably under threat of harm from whomever abducted him. She shrugged. "I hate Greek letters anyway. Let's just designate her as franklin amphibious. How's that?"

"You're right. It doesn't matter." Levin typed in the designations so the computer would move forward.

The next screen said, "All six samples infected with unknown strain of meningitis."

"Unknown!" Levin shrieked at the screen. "I almost died of it!"

"This could mean it's not the same thing you had." Although she had to wonder why everyone who had the vaccine wasn't sick right now if that was the case.

"Or it could mean politicians erased the evidence."

"Damn," Kristin muttered under her breath. "You could be right. See if you can get any information on what you had."

Levin clicked away on the keyboard. He tried several permutations of searches, using _Liberté, Aqua Sphere 7, seaQuest_, Westphalen, and Peché to try to goad the databanks to give up her past research. He even knew the exact dates involved. Kristin had forgotten, but then again, she had been on the safe side of that quarantine glass.

He shook his head in defeat. "Did Lucas go to bed?"

"I think he's still out there," she said, canting her head toward the room holding their patients. He probably didn't want to leave before Tony got some muscle relaxant. Or perhaps he was concerned about Dagwood losing control.

"You have any objections to bringing him in on this?" Levin asked.

"None," she said. Lucas had helped the first time when none of those threatened were very close to him. Neither one of them even knew Levin back then. He didn't join _seaQuest_ until after _Aqua Sphere 7_ was abandoned permanently. Kristin thought it rather noble at the time to simply destroy the outpost and entomb the fallen scientists, but now, she could see it was just another bureaucratic cover-up. However, had they just removed the bodies and restored the _Aqua Sphere_, Levin would never have joined _seaQuest_. "I'll send him in. You get him up to speed while I talk to the captain."

"Did you find anything?" Nathan asked the second she walked in.

She managed a tolerant glance she hoped would placate him until she could speak to him alone. "Lucas, would you be able to sleep if I sent you back to your quarters?"

The youth flashed her a glare of betrayal and then an accusatory, "Are _you_ going to sleep?" His tone wasn't as impertinent as he'd used at sixteen, but it was definitely a slip in that direction.

She shook her head. "No. Dr. Levin and I need your help, but I didn't want to push you if you need sleep."

His eyes lit up. "I'm fine. What can I do?"

She gestured back to the small lab. "I'll let Levin explain."

Lucas shot a quick questioning glance at Nathan.

"I'll tell O'Neill he's on his own for a while. This is more important."

"Thanks." Lucas shot off toward the lab.

Nathan chuckled softly. "You're welcome," he said, far too quietly to be heard by the retreating Lucas. His eyes said the same to Kristin.

She shook her head. "I'm not just _letting_ him help to make him feel better. We really do need him." She pulled him into a corner and lowered her voice. "Dr. Levin thinks this may be the pathogen from the _Liberté_."

"What?"

"The symptoms fit and no one who got the vaccine on the first tour is sick now. But we can't confirm it because all the medical records I made before have been purged. It's like it never existed."

"Politicians," Nathan growled like it was a curse.

"Yes, I suspect so, but if anyone can find it, Lucas will."

The captain gestured at the six beds. "Can't you just immunize them anyway?"

She planted her hands on her hips but tried to keep her voice low. "With what, Captain? The CDC confiscated the vaccine Dr. Peché and I developed. I don't have any."

"You made some before. Make some more."

One of these days, she would get back at him for that remark. _Make some more_. Like she regularly spun straw into gold and could do it any old time she pleased. She gave him the eyebrow. "Yes, well, it's a little more complicated than a recipe for scones."

"Oh, _Pierre_," he said as if he just realized her problem.

Dr. Peché's friend, whose surname she never caught, had a natural immunity to the deadly virus last time. "Everyone who received the vaccine has what he provided," she said, taking the bite out her voice now. "You want to donate a big hunk of bone marrow?"

"Tell me where to lie," he said, dead serious. She knew full well he would have said the same thing if she'd asked for his whole arm.

She leaned in closer. "You're so handsome when you're selfless, you know that?" She patted his chest. "I'm just kidding. We had to use marrow because Pierre was dead. I can use blood, preferably from someone who is O-negative."

"What's the problem, then? Don't tell me we don't have anyone with that type blood."

She crossed her arms. "Off the top of my head, I believe Hitchcock is." She'd done a quick scan of Katie's medical records when she was officially re-added to the crew.

He mock-cringed. "Brody will never live it down."

Kristin waved her hand indifferently. "I'm sure there's at least one more. But that isn't the entirety of the vaccine, you know. It took us twelve tries with Pierre's marrow and I don't remember what background serum was successful and what wasn't. I'm going to call the CDC and see if they can save us the trouble, but what I really want to know is how did this super-secret and supposedly-contained bio-weapon get to Abalon?" She tried to maintain a neutral, scientifically objective expression.

"You still think Zellar had something to do with this." Not a question, a statement.

"Give me a better explanation and I'll change my hypothesis."

"You talked to his warden yourself, Kristin! He's in prison in the Indian Ocean. This is the Atlantic. You're being irrational."

"Fine. Prove me wrong."

"What more proof do you want?"

"If he's not behind this, who is?"

"Probably whoever has Franklin Wise."

She scowled despite herself. "I hate these genetic engineers with no consciences, Nathan. DNA is not a set of toddler blocks we should be playing with. One of these days, we're going to destroy the whole planet and we'll have no one to blame but ourselves."

He shielded his face from the patient beds and whispered, "Yes, I believe that's the general idea Major Allen gave me about the Chaodai plague. You got any ideas how to stop this madness permanently, I'm all ears."

"Let's cure these six people first, then find Dr. Wise and when Zellar turns out to be behind it all, let's make sure he can never play _games_ with us again. After that, _then_ I'll save the planet from the Chaodai plague." Although she really had no idea how, she said it as if she had the whole thing planned.

"Not asking much, are we?"

She produced a weary but genuine smile. "Your crew should be fine soon, Captain."

"Is that your way of telling me to go to bed?"

"That's my way of telling you we've got this and you losing sleep doesn't help anyone."

"Duly chastised, Doctor."

_Chastised? Ha!_ She crossed her arms and quirked her brow at him again. "Go ahead and stand there all night if you insist. I'm sure Ford and Hitchcock can handle _seaQuest_ in a crisis while you're out cold because you refused to listen to your chief medical officer."

Hands raised, he backed away. "I'm going, I'm going. Do me a favor and give Lucas the same consideration."

Had she been more rested and less stressed, she'd argue the fact Lucas was science and therefore more hers than his. But the young man was close by and he didn't need to hear them fighting over him, no matter how benign the battle. Then again, maybe fighting over who had the greatest claim to his time and talents would balance out the worthlessness he must have felt when his parents fought over who had to be 'stuck' with him when he was on leave. However, there were other patients and they all needed sleep.

She raised her hand in an oath-taking posture. "I promise not to push him. He'll probably have the information in no time at all and be gloating over the fact Levin and I couldn't have done it in a week."

He nodded, obviously suppressing a grin. He patted Piccolo's tense shoulder and whispered something before he disappeared.

Kristin stared after him a second, and then shook herself out of her stupor and approached the petty officer's bed. She was 90% convinced this was the _Liberté_ virus, but more importantly, none of the other 10% of possibilities would be exacerbated by treating his spasm. She prepared her hypospray and then spoke softly. "I'm giving you a muscle relaxant, Mr. Piccolo." She pressed the instrument to his neck and delivered the medication.

He didn't revert to normal, but the tension did relax some and he exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Doc."

"Not at all. You're going to be fine. Lucas and Dr. Levin will have this figured out in no time." She said it with more optimism than she felt, but doctors were allowed to fudge on confidence when it came to patients.

"Dr. Westphalen?" Lucas called from the lab.

She hurried in to see they had the vid-link up. A face she'd seen several years ago stared back at her. She knew who it was even before seeing the CDC emblem on the wall behind him and the identification printout at the bottom of the screen. He'd always been helpful and cordial in their past dealings, but his face was not only older, but very hardened this time. She mustered up some courtesy and offered him a professional nod. "Dr. Rosenfeld." She almost apologized for the time of day, but the vid-link showed the local time and it was well within reasonable, even if the CDC wasn't on constant stand-by.

He nodded his recognition. "Dr. Westphalen. I'm afraid I don't have good news. The antidote for the _Liberté_ virus is no longer in our possession." Something in his eyes told her this was not just relocated somewhere.

"Is the pathogen missing too?"

He frowned even deeper. "I can't say. I am not at liberty to discuss it any further and I must impress upon you how important it is that you do not disclose anything I have said or not said publicly either."

"Stolen."

"I cannot confirm that." But his eyes did.

"Expect a call from the Surgeon General," Kristin said matter-of-factly. She planned to call Noyce next and light a fire under all these government types so they would cough up answers.

"She already knows everything I do, which isn't a helluva lot."

"Did the thei—excuse me—did all my research data 'disappear' with the samples?"

He nodded. "Yes, but we have a backup copy. It's on its way as we speak." Rosenfeld nodded at Lucas.

Lucas gave a thumb's up.

Kristin crossed her arms over her chest. "We're lucky. I have a submarine full of people who can supply the immunity factor. With my notes, we should be able to duplicate the antidote in short order."

"That canister held enough virus to wipe out a continent. How much of that antidote can you make if it hits a major population?"

"Dear god," she gasped.

"Exactly. I hope I'm not calling you back with that very assignment."

"Well, maybe you should get someone working on that now, just in case."

"Can you provide us with some blood to get us started?"

Her mind started working on the logistics of his proposal. She had no intention of denying them what they needed, but time was of the essence. They had a double homicide and a kidnapping to solve, not to mention finding whoever unleashed the virus on Abalon, hopefully preventing the very outbreak he feared.

"How about Ben," Lucas suggested, "or Chief Crocker?"

Kristin grinned at their resident genius and then looked back at the vid-link. "Benjamin Krieg is working at the navy shipyard in Pearl Harbor. Manilow Crocker lives somewhere in San Diego, I think. Admiral Noyce can track him down if necessary. They were both vaccinated in 2018 and they're both easier for you to tap right now."

"That's helpful, thank you, Doctor."

"If we manage to get out of this without a major epidemic, I hope someone will take my advice this time and destroy that bloody canister of death."

The weary Dr. Rosenfeld nodded. "Agreed." His face irised out and the UEO trident took over the screen.

"You can't just waltz into the CDC and steal a virus," Lucas said in a guarded tone.

"No, you can't." Kristin was about to share her suspicions about Zellar, but thought better of it. If he was going to work on this, it should be without her bias, but she could see the wheels already turning in his mind. "Get some sleep tonight and talk to the captain before you go solving the theft of the century. He may need you to work on something else first."

Disappointment clouded his eyes. "Great. More tinkering with antiques." He made it sound like a dirty chore.

Levin took over. "This is all inter-related, Lucas. You solve one part, you're closer to solving it all."

"Then why can't I work on the fun part?"

"Because you're _seaQuest_'s Chief Computer Analyst and you don't always get to do what you want," Levin said flatly.

Kristin probably wouldn't have put it so bluntly, but Lucas needed to hear it and she knew he respected Levin.

"And you never know. Maybe the captain will pull you off the antiques." She placed her arm over his shoulder and whispered near his ear. "Tony's feeling better after I gave him a muscle relaxant. Why don't you go say goodnight?"

Lucas yawned and nodded at the same time.

She released him and returned her voice to normal. "Thanks for tracking down my research notes. Everyone should be better soon."

"Thanks for letting me help."

Although she tried not to be too obvious in watching him, she noticed he visited Tony's and Dagwood's beds before he took off. She turned to Levin. "Do you want to take shifts or tackle this together?"

"I'm good and I haven't had any coffee yet. How about you?"

"I'd better stay. I have it on good authority the crazy doctor who developed the antidote produces notes no one can understand." It was a lame attempt at self-deprecating humor, she knew, but they needed something to keep them going.

"And I happen to know Dr. Peché did almost nothing and _you_ transcribed all the notes."

He had her there. She smiled. "Yes, well, it may just be my secret family recipe for scones in that file."

"Those scones saved my life. I don't think I ever said thanks."

"Pshaw. You pulled me out of that dingy clinic in Birmingham. I'd say we're even."


	65. Chapter 88

**Chapter 88**

It took six hours to synthesize the colloidal substrate that made up the bulk of the vaccine. Four enlisted men and seven scientists who hadn't been on the first tour arrived in Medbay in that time span. Levin checked the records to make sure no one else who hadn't been immunized was lurking around, suffering in silence. Sure enough, another three crewmen were discovered and ordered to report to the auxiliary wing of Medbay, bringing the total patients to twenty.

Hitchcock donated enough blood to complete the serum without needing to ask anyone else. Although Kristin was beyond exhausted when the serum was finally administered to her twenty patients and there was nothing left to do but wait, she still didn't feel right about leaving Medbay. She fell asleep with her arms folded over one of the tables in the lab.

"Kristin," a female voice rolled gently through the haze of her sleep. Someone touched her back.

It took her a second to remember where she was and push her weary body upright. "Huh? How long have I been out?" Physical light replaced dreams, but she didn't focus enough to identify who had interrupted her unplanned nap.

"At least three hours," Levin's voice said from somewhere across the room.

Kristin blinked and turned to face the female who had wakened her. _Wendy_. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" she scolded half-heartedly.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." Wendy precluded a rebuttal with a halting hand. "We're all fine now, thanks to you. I didn't get up until Joshua cleared it. My temp is normal and I think I've got a handle on the grouchies. I'm pretty sure I owe you an apology or two."

Kristin waved her off. "You were a pussy cat compared to how Ford reacted."

A slight chuckle. "So Joshua's been telling me. You must be exhausted and sleeping in a lab chair can't be helping. Come on, let me walk you to your quarters."

Kristin yawned and stretched her arms. "Piccolo?"

Levin rattled off a report: "His temp is still a bit elevated, but the muscle contractions have stopped. I'm keeping him for observation for a couple more hours."

"You should probably get some sleep too," Wendy said to Levin.

"Only if you promise not to do those autopsies by yourself," he said.

"I'm still recovering from a nearly-fatal disease and so is Townsend. The autopsies can wait."

"We did do those slides we promised," Kristin said. It seemed like it had been weeks ago, but it was actually less than a day.

"Maybe I'll have a look at them," Wendy said. She was now ushering Kristin out the door, gently but very insistent.

Kristin didn't have the energy or the will to fight it. "Live patients come first," she said in what had to be an annoying lecture tone. "But you know that," she added quickly. She lowered her voice and spoke into Wendy's ear. "I'm glad you're better. Levin and I couldn't handle this much longer and I shudder to put Roberts in charge."

Dr. Roberts had been Wendy's assistant on the previous tour. According to records, he ordered lethal dosages to be used on Wendy after Clay Marshall knocked her unconscious in the shuttle. He probably would have lost his license and never worked in medicine again if Wendy hadn't been convinced Marshall used mind control on him. She coaxed Roberts to stay on _seaQuest_, hoping to restore his confidence, but it appeared to be beyond repair. He didn't want to be a doctor anymore and ended up as a PA instead. Kristin accepted him as such under Wendy's recommendation. He still had his medical degree and his license intact and they might need him to use it some day, but only if there was a major emergency. Pushing him into that role when he didn't want it would help no one.

Wendy chuckled. "He should get here just about the time all the patients are sent home."

"Good."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Uh…" She almost asked what day it was.

"Do you want to drop by the mess?"

Kristin snickered. "Do you want to hold me up so I don't end up facedown in a plate?"

"Good point. Sleep first, eat later."

"I think I can manage, Doctor."

"Never a doubt you could." Wendy stopped walking.

Kristin was so out of it she hadn't realized they arrived at her quarters. She might have walked right by. "Thanks for the escort."

Wendy smiled. "Thanks for not firing me for insubordination."

"I do hope you find something in those bodies. Whoever is behind all this is really beginning to chap my hide."

"We'll get him eventually."

"Let's make it sooner rather than later, hmm? Twenty people on a contained submarine coming down with a disease that's already been cured is nothing compared to a real epidemic. We can't replicate the immunity factor fast enough. Millions could die."

"I know. Let's just hope it was an attention stunt."

"Attention. Right." She didn't think Wendy was the least fooled by her sarcastic agreement. Rubin Zellar wasn't an attention hound. He was a chess player. Whatever he was playing at, this hadn't been a 'stunt'. It was a gambit. Maybe when she was better rested and thinking straight, she'd tell Wendy her irrational fears about Zellar so the chief psychologist could talk her out of her foolishness once and for all. Right now, all she could think about was an appointment with her pillow.

She entered quietly, leaving the lights dim in case Nathan was still sleeping, but the bed was empty. A tinge of guilt crossed her mind for being glad he wasn't there. She didn't have the strength to answer questions or update him on the patients. She would have, if he asked. Besides being her husband, he was the captain and he deserved to know, but she was glad he wasn't there to ask.

She removed her lab coat and science uniform without thought and without attention to where they landed. Water would have stimulated her skin too much and drying off would take more effort than she wanted to spend, so she took a quick ion shower. She might have skipped it entirely if showering had meant walking anywhere else to use the community facilities. There were definitely advantages to be married to the captain. A clean nightshirt finished the task. She'd learned long ago to sleep in something somewhat presentable in case there was ever a drill or emergency.

She didn't allow troubling thoughts to start niggling at her tired mind. Once under the covers, she succumbed to sleep like a lead ball succumbs to gravity.

"Kristin?" a voice called from the other side of her comfortable oblivion.

_I don't want to get up. Why can't anyone just let me sleep?_

"Kristin." A little more insistent this time. It occurred to her it was her husband, but shouldn't he be more considerate?

"Go 'way," she grumbled.

"All right, but this is your only chance to speak to Rubin Zellar."

_Rubin Zellar?_ Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright. "That better not have been a trick to wake me up," she said darkly.

"Townsend must have overheard us talking in Medbay. He asked me about your doubts. With all the genetic engineers involved in this, he was concerned Bladachuspiat might be holding Zellar's clone, so he wants you to question him on vid-link so we can either confirm it's a doppelganger or eliminate him as a suspect permanently. O'Neill is convincing the warden to arrange it as we speak. So…you up for it?"

_A clone. Of course! Why didn't I think of that?_ A clone wouldn't even know her. One or maybe two questions would be all it took to prove this prisoner was an imposter and Zellar was indeed free and out wreaking havoc. She leapt from the bed. "Give me thirty seconds to get dressed and do something about my hair."

"Take two minutes. You crashed hard." A gentle smile tugged at his lips.

She smiled, but she also thwapped him with a pillow.

"Good work, by the way, on the antidote."

Kristin was already pulling a fresh uniform out of a drawer. "I didn't do it alone. Levin helped, and none of it would have been possible without the help of Dr. Peché last time."

"You and I know that, and I'm sure Levin knows you don't take him for granted, but do us both a favor and don't repeat that to Townsend. He's better when he owes you his life."

"Getting devious, are we, Captain?" Her science coverall was halfway on. A fresh lab coat still sat in the open drawer. Her mind shifted to the problem of remembering where she left her shoes.

"I didn't have much choice when Noyce foisted him on us, but I much prefer the indebted Special Agent to the one who seemed to think we were his personal limo drivers."

"If he gets Zellar, then I owe _him_ one."

Nathan looked like he was going to argue, but he shut his mouth and handed her shoes over instead. "Tripped over them on my way to the head," he explained.

"Sorry. Like you said, I crashed hard."

"Where do you want to take it? Ward room or Medbay?"

"How about here?"

"Do you want Zellar or his doppelganger to figure out we're married?"

The real Zellar probably already knew. That weasel probably spied on her through the Internex all the time, Googling her name just to see what she was doing. There had been engagement and wedding announcements in newspapers all over. After all, Captain Nathan Bridger was a hero of epic proportions. It gave her the willies to think of that weasel spying on her personal life, but it wasn't quite as bad as having one's email hacked. "The ward room. He doesn't need to see any of the aftermath of his little opening move. Assuming he told his clone what he planned."

"Just keep your mind open to the possibility it's really him in prison and there is no clone."

"I'm a scientist." She donned her lab coat as if to prove her declaration.

"You're also a grieving sister, Kristin. Don't let him win by getting under your skin again."

"Oh, he's not winning. I promise you that. No more test tubes filled with seawater and algae. He's mine this time."

"No." He set his hand on her shoulder and their gaze met in the mirror. "He's Townsend's."

"Yes. I should have a chat with Mr. Grateful. He needs to know some things."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Brush your hair, Doctor. I'll go play nice with the warden."

"I'm right behind you."

Her husband left. Sheesh, she hadn't even said good morning or kissed him. He did look well-rested though. Now that she was moving, Kristin felt like she'd slept enough as well—at least enough to take the edge off her exhaustion.

Her hair hadn't grown back to its normal length since the sacrificial bob she'd done for the Juno mission. As such, it didn't need quite as much attention, but she also didn't want any sign of haggardness for this clone to notice and possibly gloat about. If he was a good enough copy to fool the warden, he was likely just as intelligent as the real Zellar. However, she had to remember the clone was an innocent scapegoat, just as Dagwood had been. Sharing DNA with a murderer or a psychopath wasn't a crime.

She had to wonder what Zellar had offered his doppelganger as incentive to uphold the charade when he was clearly getting the short end of the proverbial stick on this deal. It shouldn't take much to get a clone to confess his innocence, should it? She hurried down the corridors toward the ward room, her mind awhirl.

At the hatch, she peeked in the porthole and saw Nathan talking to the vid-link screen. Knocking would have been just as much of an intrusion as entering, but she was expected, so she opened the hatch wide enough for her head. Sure enough, Nathan saw her and motioned her in with a subtle hand gesture kept under the vid-link camera's frame. She entered, closed the hatch, and straightened her clothes all while breathing deeply. She'd been asleep just five minutes ago.

"Ah, Dr. Westphalen," the warden said. "So nice to see you." His Indian accent was faint.

"I'm sorry to trouble you again, Warden."

He raised a hand. "Not at all. Your captain has explained the situation. I'd do the very same thing if I were in your shoes. Not to mention, if your suspicions are confirmed, I've lost a prisoner with no idea when or how his escape occurred."

"Last time we met, he fooled a lot of people with far less," Nathan said.

The Indian gentleman nodded. No doubt he had read Zellar's records and knew the fate of his last warden. "Can't I just have a skin sample analyzed?"

"No," Kristin said patiently. "Gen-U-Flect has already produced perfect clones with identical DNA. Fingerprints are useless too." It struck her then how hard it was going to be to prove who was who and who did what if the madman and his clone were cooperating.

"Are we ready then?" the warden asked.

"Whenever you are," Nathan said cordially. He backed away a little so Kristin would fill the majority of the frame.

The warden nodded to someone off-screen. Electronic beeping suggested a key code was being entered and then a hiss of air indicated the breaking of some kind of seal. Footfalls accompanied by the tinkle of chains sounded before the figure of Rubin Zellar stepped into the screen. He wore an orange penal outfit and his legs and hands were all connected by chain, but Kristin only barely noticed because his eyes locked on hers and once again she stared straight into the soul of the man who had killed her brother. _Damn_. It was Zellar after all. She suppressed a gasp with great effort.

"Why, Dr. Westphalen, whatever is the matter?" Zellar asked.

"You know doggone well what's the matter. What are you planning?"

Smarmy innocence crossed his face and he clicked his tongue. "Tsk, tsk. That isn't how the game is played, my dear. I'm quite gratified you've granted me a rematch though. You're the one opponent I haven't beat."

"I haven't agreed to any rematch. I won and you lost and that's the end of it."

"Oh, but you're wrong. We wouldn't be speaking otherwise."

Rage bubbled up in her. Nathan stepped between her and the screen, grabbing both shoulders in strong hands. His calm, reassuring eyes pulled some of her rage away. He spoke softly. "He's playing with your mind, but that doesn't mean it's him. Zellar's no idiot. He would have coached a clone. Ask him something only the real Zellar would know." He moved back to her side and addressed the screen himself. "What was the first thing you asked for when you boarded _seaQuest_?"

"Why, Captain Bridger, I'm truly touched you've deigned to speak to me. Another worthy opponent. I could just refuse to answer, of course. You wouldn't know whether I am just being stubborn or really don't know. But where's the fun in that? I asked for dry clothes."

Nathan exchanged a _'how's that?'_ look with her.

"Oh, but that's too easy," Zellar said with an oily ease. "My—how did you put it?—doppelganger could have coached me. After I got clothes, I requested a hot meal and a game of chess. You, Captain, said you'd rather play poker, and offered a tour instead. The lovely Dr. Westphalen volunteered to show me around and invited me to her quarters for a chess game. How am I doing so far?" Again, he had that smug look on his face that made Kristin want to punch him.

"I consented to play with Warden Griggs, not _you_," she said coldly.

"Yes, and now you're still not sure if I am me or someone else, aren't you?"

She ignored his attempt to rile her. "What did I call my penchant for the game?"

"Scraping the bottom of the memory barrel now, aren't we? I don't recall."

Was that really something the real Zellar would remember? She barely remembered the offhand remark herself and it had been years.

"Well?" Nathan's facial expression demanded more than she had to offer.

She shrugged and then lowered her voice to speak to him. "Anything important could have been coached. Anything obscure could just as easily have been forgotten. It's been too long."

Nathan nodded and then spoke to the screen. "Thank you for your time, Warden. We have nothing further."

Zellar sighed. "It's been a pleasure, Captain, Doctor."

Kristin stepped forward. "If you're not Zellar, why cover for him? He's leaving you to rot in his place and you've done nothing wrong. Help us and you can go free."

A prison guard pushed Zellar toward the security door. He looked over his shoulder, piercing Kristin once again with that evil gaze of his. "A mild compulsion, my dear."

The screen irised out into the UEO emblem.

"That guy doesn't even know the meaning of mild," Nathan muttered.

"He wasn't talking about himself," Kristin said slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"He answered my question. I called chess a mild compulsion right before we played. It's him."

He waved her off. "He's a madman, Kristin. He plays mind games and nothing he says can be trusted. I'm sorry I woke you for this."

She sighed. "I'm not. At least we know he's where he's supposed to be."

"You're that sure?"

"Why would he tell a clone I called chess a mild compulsion? How would he anticipate such a random question?"

Nathan didn't answer her. He appeared to have more doubts now, not less.

"It isn't just that. It's in his eyes. He didn't just recognize me from a description. Everything we shared was reflected in his gaze. I beat him last time. I made him whimper out his desire to live and I made him think I threw deadly toxin in his face. Those eyes want revenge, Nathan."


	66. Chapter 89

**Chapter 89**

Nathan paced in his quarters, too unsettled to go sit on the bridge. Why did it always have to be insane geniuses? Something bothered him about the vid-link call but he couldn't put his finger on it. Up to now, he'd thought Kristin was just being paranoid about Zellar being involved in this, but now he wasn't so sure. She'd drawn comfort from the call—assurance Zellar was still a helpless prisoner—but he'd drawn just the opposite: doubt. Something about the whole conversation was off-kilter.

Kristin had a point. If it was indeed a clone, how would he have known about an offhand remark like that? Zellar himself could hardly have been blamed for not remembering it. The man didn't even remember Dr. James Westphalen, and he'd been the leader of the science expedition he'd targeted in his last toxic massacre. Then again, Zellar was both a genius and a liar and nothing he'd ever said could be trusted. He might have remembered Kristin's brother but pretended he didn't just to play with her mind or rile her.

If there was no clone, why would the real Zellar admit he remembered that tidbit of information when he knew it would put her doubts to rest and end his fun? With such a twisted mind, how could Nathan even begin to imagine what this man considered fun anyway?

_Edward, where are you with your truth serums when I need you?_ Maybe he could ask Wendy to… no that wasn't right. The ends didn't justify the means. Besides, it wasn't fair to Wendy to ask her to get inside a madman's mind again. She was still recovering from that deadly virus and she had autopsies to do.

What did Franklin Wise have to offer Rubin Zellar? Were they really connected at all or was Nathan ascribing too much credit to coincidence?

He glanced at Professor Martinson's holographic generator. Was there any point to voicing his doubts to a computer? He decided the program would just say, _"Not enough data,"_ in that neutral yet superior tone of his, leaving Nathan miffed as well as frustrated.

_Lucas_. He'd go check and see if he had any new information. He stooped to pick up Kristin's nightshirt off the floor, tossed it in the laundry, then he stood, straightened his collar, and set out.

The team of O'Neill and Wolenczak had taken over a conference room where they could lay out all their computer parts over a large table and leave them undisturbed when they were off-duty. Through a porthole in the hatch he could see only Lucas was present, hunched over a hunk of electronic artifact older than he was. Nathan let his knuckles tap the door once before he opened it, just to reduce the possibility of startling him.

"How's it coming?" he asked, trying not to sound too pushy.

The kid sighed. "Tim got it running, but I don't know how to find anything. There are thousands upon thousands of files here, but they're not named, and so far, most of them are empty, like decoys or something. Wise must have had a list somewhere to tell him what was what."

"You said 'most'? What wasn't empty?"

Lucas cringed. "You sure you wanna know?"

Nathan rolled his eyes but he tempered his voice with humor. "No, I'm just making you do this as punishment. Of course I want to know!"

The kid lifted his face from his intent study of the machine. A forlorn look crossed his eyes. "Punishment? What'd I do?"

This wasn't like what Krieg used to pull, when he was really asking which of the many offenses he'd hidden he'd finally been caught at. This was all innocence with a dose of hurt on the side.

Nathan planted both hands on the young shoulders. "I'm kidding, Lucas. I'd take away the _Stinger_ keys or confine you to your quarters, but haven't I always talked to you about it first?"

"Yeah, but…" He looked away.

"But what?"

He jerked his gaze back. "Why wouldn't you let me work on finding out who broke into the CDC when you know I'm no good with all these dinosaur contraptions?"

"First of all, you're better than you think, it's just not as fun as when you can hack into the Internex and get what you need in thirty seconds flat."

Lucas smirked, looking more like himself than he had since Nathan walked in. "I didn't say I could find the CDC thief in thirty seconds."

"No, but you think you can do it faster than the FBI."

He didn't answer.

"The FBI has a dozen agents in Atlanta already working on the virus theft. I don't doubt you could help if you tried, but if you gave up on Franklin Wise's computer, what would happen to it?"

He sighed resignedly. "It'd sit here collecting dust until we could get it off the boat for someone else to work on."

"Exactly. You're here and the dinosaur computer is here and O'Neill has done all he can."

Lucas nodded. He still wasn't happy, but he wasn't under some false impression he was in trouble either. Even more impressive, he wasn't whining about it.

"So what did you find?"

The kid's shoulders shrugged. "A poem by Walt Whitman."

He waited and even prompted with a lift of brows, but Lucas didn't take the hint. "What poem?"

"O Captain my Captain."

"Just the poem?"

"So far."

"I mean, were there any notes or comments with it?"

"I don't think so. Here, lemme pull it up."

The little monochrome screen showed the first stanza. Lucas rigged it to scroll slowly, revealing the successive lines with plenty of time to read. Nathan took advantage of the extra time to study Lucas. Something about this bothered him. The elder cleared his throat and narrated as he would for a dramatic rendering: "Where on the deck my captain lies; Fallen cold and dead." He stopped there, eying Lucas for a reaction.

Lucas didn't look up; he shuddered, though almost imperceptibly.

Nathan kept his voice soft, unjudging. "You know this is about Abraham Lincoln, right?"

"Lincoln was long gone even in the fifties. It's not like Franklin Wise could have known him."

"Whitman is a major American poet and this is one of his most famous works. Maybe Dr. Wise just liked poetry."

"Great," he said in that sardonic sneer of his, "so why this and not 'When Lilacs Last in the Barnyard Bloom'd'? Where's the rest of _Leaves of Grass_?"

"Dooryard," Nathan corrected, trying not to smile.

"Whatever."

"Hey, come on, you said yourself there are thousands of files here. Maybe the rest of _Leaves of Grass_ is in one of them."

"Yeah, well, I still don't understand why he'd have a file with just one poem in it and why it had to be this one."

"Don't read anything into it, pal. Like you said, Lincoln's been dead a long time."

Lucas nodded, but he wasn't getting over his misgiving that easily.

Nathan patted his back and turned to leave.

"Bridge to Captain," O'Neill's voice came over ship-wide speakers.

Nathan took three steps and hit the button on a wall console. "Bridger."

"We have an incoming message, sir. It's a recording, about a minute long."

"Who's it from?"

"It doesn't say and it's been bounced like all those email hacks and the radio signal earlier. I can't get a location."

"How is it addressed?"

"Just '_seaQuest_'."

He could listen in private and see what it was. Then again, _seaQuest_ was more than just him and he needed as many viewpoints as he could get on this. "I'll be right there." He headed toward the door and then looked back at Lucas. "Come on, I need you on the bridge."

Lucas dropped what he was working on and a smile lit his face.

The captain jogged with Lucas right behind him. The bridge was close, so they arrived within a minute. Ford deftly relinquished the captain's chair and stood next to Hitchcock, who was already standing behind Brody's station.

Nathan decided not to sit just yet. "Main viewer, Mr. O'Neill."

"Aye, sir."

WSKRS data from the surrounding water winked out and the screen filled with former-Secretary Andrea Dre sitting at a plain wood table, wearing a grey suit. The wall behind her was white and there were no other objects or people in the shot.

"Surprised to see me? You shouldn't be after speaking to Zellar—or his facsimile. By now you should realize prison cells are no longer a barrier to intelligent people with connections. We have cloning technology, biological weapons, and score of scientists working with us. You don't stand a chance.

"Go ahead and verify there is still an Andrea Dre with the correct DNA signature and fingerprints locked in Brussels International Supermax. I will not comment on which of us ever met you or how many of me there may be now. Nor will I say where I made this recording or how long ago.

"None of that really matters anyway. We tried to do this peacefully. I wasn't even going to kill those world leaders until you gave me no choice with that doctored video of yours. Now it's not going to be just a few bloated suits dying like heroes in the service of their respective confederations." The image of Dre shook her finger at the screen and her voice hardened, lips scowling. "_You_ have made this messy, not me. If the UEO doesn't listen to me now and do as I say, the blood of millions of innocents will be on your heads."

The woman on the screen took a deep breath, reached for a glass off-camera, took a sip, set it down, and folded her hands on top of the table. More composed, she spoke again. "By now you're aware we have the _Liberté_ virus and the antidote. We're calling for the complete and irrevocable dissolution of the United Earth Oceans Charter. Tear it up and everything goes back to how it was before this mess. Disband and people can go on living their lives, just under new management. If you figure out where we are and try to invade us, hundreds of aerosol canisters attached to skyscrapers and airplanes all over the world will be triggered to release the virus on civilian populations. Once the epidemic starts, you won't be able to contain it. No nation on Earth will be exempt except the ones we choose to share the antidote with."

She leaned forward, staring into the camera with cold, calculating eyes. "You may kill one of me, but another Andrea Dre will rise out of the ashes to take my place. My New World Order has a place for _seaQuest_. Be smart and get onboard with the winning team this time."

Dre looked up, presumably at her cameraman, gave a curt nod, and the screen went blank.


	67. Chapter 90

**Chapter 90**

"Get me Admiral Noyce on a secure line," Nathan ordered.

"He's calling us," O'Neill said.

The captain slipped into his seat while motioning for the lieutenant to put him up on the screen.

Noyce wore blue camouflage fatigues and a matching ballcap, but his face was far from casual. "You'll never guess who just sent me a recording."

"Your old Woodstock pal, Andrea Dre."

His eyes widened. "You too?"

Nathan nodded. "She blames _seaQuest_ for thwarting her last coup attempt."

"If you think she hates you, that's nothing compared to how she feels about me." His brows slanted and his voice got gruff. "Like I was looking for a way to discredit her and steal her job. I didn't even _want_ to be Interim Secretary!"

"I believe you've said that a time or two."

"What did she say to you?"

"She's holding the world hostage to the _Liberté_ virus. Looks like she also has Gen-U-Flect and Zellar working for her. Dissolve the UEO or millions die. That about the gist of it?"

Noyce nodded, looking very tired.

"So what are we going to do?"

"This is out of my hands. McGath is calling an emergency session as we speak."

"He's not seriously considering giving in to terrorism, is he?"

"I don't know. It's damned hard to be idealistic if you're faced with extermination on that scale."

"So they give her what she wants. Dissolve the UEO and Dre becomes Czarina of Earth. Then what?"

Bill sighed. From the frustration evident on his face, it appeared he'd already had this argument with the Joint Chiefs or possibly McGath. "Then we try to neutralize the threat. When the virus canisters have been found and neutralized, _then_ we overthrow her. Live to fight another day and all that."

"Letting the enemy dig better trenches never helps."

The admiral held up his hand. "You're preaching to the choir, Captain. But like I said, this is out of my hands. The UEO is not a dictatorship. The nations who voted to form it can vote to dissolve it. It's up to them."

Nathan nodded. "May I ask why you called me then?"

"All military are on high alert right now. I would order you to dive deep and disappear, but you've got something we need. The Surgeon General and the head of the CDC have both begged me to release Dr. Westphalen. Will she consent to help them?"

"To make more antidote? Of course. But they damn well better listen to her when this is all over and destroy the virus rather than keep it so this can happen again. I'll set course for Washington immediately."

"Make it Savannah, but it doesn't matter because a jet copter will be meeting you en route. You'll need to surface."

"One condition, Admiral. You send out something Hitchcock is rated to fly and when the pilot lands, he surrenders his craft. When the enemy can clone anyone they want and pass a DNA test, we can't tell who our own people are. Hitchcock has been here with us, therefore she's the only one I trust. This is not just because Kristin's my wife."

Bill waved the thought away. "Agreed. She's one of the most valuable doctors on the planet right now. Peché is leading another team from some undisclosed location in Europe. I don't even know what country. The security on him is tighter than on McGath. You guard Westphalen with everything you've got. We'll be in touch."

He inclined his head to his old friend. "Aye, Admiral. Bridger out." O'Neill didn't need to be told to cut off the call. The bridge was quiet for several seconds afterward.

"All right people, you heard the Admiral. Make sure Darwin is aboard then we high tail it out of here. Maximum speed, heading two-one-eight."

"Two-one-eight, aye, Captain." Ford confirmed. He called down to sea deck to confirm Darwin was aboard while Ortiz reprogrammed the WSKRS. Lucas found his way to his bridge station. Nathan didn't have time to check his reaction to all this. He had to be scared, but he was keeping quiet and staying out of the way.

Nathan leaned in to Hitchcock. "I hope I wasn't too presumptuous, volunteering you to fly this mission, Commander." She had only flown her own private helicopter on her own time, as far as he knew.

"Not at all. I'll take real good care of Dr. Westphalen."

"Never a doubt you would." He turned to the weapons station. "Mr. Brody, are you fit to travel?" He was cleared for bridge duty, but Nathan wasn't sure whether throwing him on a jet copter would be a good idea so soon after his brush with the virus.

"Absolutely."

"You're going with Hitchcock as security detail. Take anyone you want."

"How many?"

"As many as you have room for. Commander, let us know when you find out what they're flying out here so we know how many seats there are."

She nodded. "Aye, sir." She turned to Brody and sent him off to gather gear and get his team together.

Nathan knew his people had the bridge under control. He stood to go down to Medbay and break the news to Kristin, but as soon as he turned, he saw her heading through the clamshell doors. "I was just coming to see you," he said.

"Oh? Dr. Smith said she felt a lot of apprehension up here, but she's up to her elbows in autopsy, so she suggested I might want to poke my nose in. What's going on?"

"Andrea Dre just threatened to unleash the _Liberté_ virus on the whole planet if we don't dissolve the UEO."

"Dre? But isn't she supposed to be in prison?"

"She claims to have cloning scientists on her side."

Her face paled. "Zellar?"

"Apparently. She assumed we would have caught the fake from our chat. In any case, the Surgeon General and the head of the CDC have both asked Admiral Noyce to release you from _seaQuest_ to come help them produce more antidote. You up for saving the world?"

"How soon can we get there?"

"They're sending a jet copter, but the pilot is staying here. Hitchcock is flying you out, along with Brody and a security team. Noyce told me to guard you with all we've got."

She gave him a half-hearted smirk and planted her hands on her hips. "Oh sure. Don't listen to me when I tell them to destroy that infernal virus, but when it gets stolen, who do they call?"

"You're not military, Kristin. You can say no."

She smiled warmly and slid her hand down his upper arm to the elbow. "More innocent people could die if I do. I'll go."

"Who should be in charge of Medbay in your absence, Levin or Smith?"

"I'm taking Levin with me. He knows almost as much as I do. I'm also going to need everyone who wasn't recently sick to give us some blood."

"Everyone gives but Hitchcock. She's already given and I don't want her weakened any more when she's got to fly."

Kristin nodded. "You're right. Too soon for her."

"We're kind of busy right now. You'll have to send medics and nurses out to duty stations for collection."

"I can do that."

"Tell Dr. Smith to drop the autopsies again. I need her to concentrate on psychological profiles right now."

"What did we do before we had a Chief Psychologist?"

"We walked around blind and stupid," he said jokingly, but it was true. He counted on Wendy's psychology expertise and he never wanted to be without that advantage again.

She laughed. "I'll tell her you said that."

"If you're not too busy, I'd like you and Levin to sit in on the meeting I'm calling in an hour."

"I'm sure we can make it. What are you doing after we leave…" Her face turned concerned. "…or can you say?"

"We don't have any orders yet, but getting back aboard may be tricky if we go to war."

"W-war?" Her voice became a whisper. "I thought that wasn't supposed to happen yet."

He shrugged. "We don't know how much was changed when we didn't let the aliens have _seaQuest_. I only hope we changed history for the better."

She took his hand. "You did."

He nodded and tried to believe it. Still, Andrea Dre making a recording just for _seaQuest_ didn't sit well with him. Too personal. Would Dre's revenge have taken a different form had they not been here? Did she recruit Zellar and kidnap Franklin Wise just to be sure _seaQuest_ would be involved?

"Ward room?"

His mind was a million miles away. He gave her a blank look.

"The meeting in an hour?"

"Yes, the ward room. See you then."

She turned to leave. He squeezed her hand before releasing it and forced his mind back to the bridge. Wendy had felt their apprehension from two decks down. They were all functioning at their peak despite their fears, but he knew they'd draw strength from his leadership. He returned to his seat and watched as Ford relayed orders to Shan and got them underway.

"Anything else, Captain?"

Nathan smiled. "Not at the moment, Commander." He raised his voice and spoke so everyone would hear. "I do need you, Hitchcock, O'Neill, Shan, and Wolenczak in the ward room in an hour." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, and someone tell Townsend too. I don't know if we're going to be invited to whatever happens next, but we're certainly not going to just stand around watching while the world falls apart."

"Yes sir," Ford answered for everyone while the others nodded.

Hitchcock lifted her head from the computer monitor at the weapons station Brody had vacated. "They're sending a jet copter with room for eight, including the pilot," she reported.

"Dr. Westphalen and Dr. Levin are your passengers. Tell Brody he can recruit four for his security team."

"Aye, sir. Looks like we rendezvous in two hours."

"I still want you at that meeting. Wasn't it you and Ford who originally brought up the possibility we were looking for a woman?"

"That was when this was a simple kidnapping of one old man. I never dreamed the former Secretary General was planning to take over the world."

"No, but you didn't let us focus on the obvious. We're going to have to think outside the box on this."

"I don't suppose Ms. Dre would consent to settling this with a cage match," Hitchcock muttered, only half-joking.

Nathan chuckled. "Probably not, because she'd lose for sure."

Hitchcock nodded but if Nathan was reading the slight smile and the gleam in her eyes properly, Katie Hitchcock wanted to punch Andrea Dre smack in the kisser. To tell the truth, Nathan wanted to let her.

"You asked to see me, Captain?" Dr. Smith's voice came from behind him.

"I did. Sorry about the autopsies, but we've suddenly got a much bigger problem on our hands than Franklin Wise disappearing."

"Dr. Westphalen said Andrea Dre is threatening to use the _Liberté_ virus?"

"Yes. I need you to come watch her recording and tell me what you think."

She nodded and he stood again. "Commander Ford, the bridge is yours."

"Aye, sir, bridge is mine."

He led her down to the ward room, walking briskly. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked, mainly to make polite conversation.

"I'm much better, thank you. I'm sorry I was out of line before."

He waved it off. "Not your fault."

"Can you imagine millions of people getting that grumpy and rude?"

He shuddered. "I don't want to _imagine_ it, Doctor. I want to prevent it. Even the people who have immunity could get killed in the frenzy."

"Yes, Joshua mentioned the _Aqua Sphere 7_ scientists killing each other. He was quite affected by seeing that."

Nathan nodded. "Ford too, but he probably wouldn't remember it now."

They arrived in the room. Nathan set up the console to play the message. He waited until she was comfortably seated and pressed the play button. After it started, he wished he'd had an excuse to leave, but it wasn't really long enough for him to get anything else done, so he had to sit there and endure that… _woman_ and her gall again. He kept silent and tried to keep his own emotions under control lest they interfere with Wendy's concentration.

The recording ran out. No one said anything for several long seconds. "Well?" he finally prompted.

Wendy shook her head. "That's some ego."

He resisted the considerable urge to agree. They didn't have time for chit-chat. "Is this the real Andrea Dre or is this a clone?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea. If I could talk to her live, I might be able to tell, but this?" She gestured at the empty screen and sighed.

"You've had impressions off of recordings before."

"Yes, and I get impressions from this too. She's carrying a grudge. She's certain she has the upper hand and she doesn't care who she harms to get what she wants. But none of that tells you whether this is Andrea Dre or her clone."

"Why would a clone hold a grudge?"

"People hold grudges based on what they've been told all the time."

He tried not to let his doubt show. He didn't want to argue after he'd asked for her expert opinion, but come on. People held grudges because of experience, not hearsay.

She smiled that knowing look of hers. She could see right through him, but patience tempered her words. "If I tell you New Cape Quest was blown off the map by the Amazonian Confederation this morning, you'd hold a grudge. Wars have started like this for centuries. 'Remember the Alamo!' they shouted, but everyone who was really_ at_ the Alamo was dead."

He nodded, feeling rather stupid. "All right. We don't know whether she's the real Dre or not, but she thought we'd already caught Zellar. Kristin was convinced the man in Zellar's prison cell was really him. What are we missing?"

"Would Kristin mind if we looked at her conversation with Zellar?" Wendy asked.

He shook his head. "I was with her and the warden was with him. It wasn't private." He pulled up the vid-link logs to find the call.

"Wait. You talked to Zellar too?"

"Yes."

"Then what was _your_ impression? You said, 'Kristin was convinced.' What about _you_?"

"It didn't prove anything either way to me, but I didn't have as close contact with him as Kristin did when he was aboard _seaQuest_."

"Come now, Captain. He made you freeze your ship and launch your missiles. You looked in his eyes and you stayed a step ahead of him. Kristin was duped on a more personal level and she lost her brother to him. She's not as objective."

"You've done your homework."

"Kristin is my friend and she's also a world class scientist. She doesn't lose objectivity easily. She's been distressed ever since Zellar's name came up, so yes, I checked the computer for old logs."

He never thought otherwise. "Does everyone always assume you're reading minds?"

A nervous chuckle. "Not always, but often enough that I have a habit of explaining my sources of information even when no one asks. Sorry."

He'd doubted her enough he probably helped drive her into that habit. "No, it's okay. You still want to see the recording of Zellar?"

She nodded.

He pressed the play button and they watched the conversation. His and Kristin's voices were recorded, but the screen only showed what they had seen during the call.

"Kristin said that last remark was the answer to her earlier question. She called chess her 'mild compulsion'. That's what convinced her this was really him."

She shook her head. "I don't know. This man, whoever he is, is enjoying playing with her head… and yours too."

He shrugged. Nothing new about that.

"Good try with the appeal though. Being imprisoned for someone else's crime should rouse strong feelings of injustice."

"Not enough though. Assuming the clones and the originals have had contact—and they must have—the one promise the clone could cling to is certainty of eventual freedom."

Her wrinkled brow suggested she wasn't following.

"Reasonable doubt, Doctor. Our system of justice depends on it. Dagwood is free right now because there is reasonable doubt he killed Wilhelm Brown. They never proved his clone did it either. When you cannot prove beyond reasonable doubt that Dagwood committed murder, nothing else matters. If the clone had lived, he'd probably be free too because Dagwood's existence would create doubt for him just as well."

Wendy gasped. "That means the real Dre and the real Zellar will both be let go."

He nodded. "Along with their clones. When you can't prove which person committed the crime, they both get acquittals. That's why it wouldn't matter to the clone that he'd be in the prison for a while. It's temporary. There's no need to make deals when you'll be set free legally."

"There's got to be a way to differentiate. What did we do before DNA evidence?"

"Fingerprints and eyewitness identification. Both of which help us none because the clone is identical in every way."

"Except memories."

"But those can be coached." He gestured up at the blank screen where the recording had played. "We don't know if that's the real Zellar remembering what Kristin said, or if that's Zellar's clone remembering it because the real Zellar_ told_ him Kristin said it."

"You're right. We've got to find something more obscure, something we know he wouldn't have told the clone."

He chuckled darkly. "We can't begin to know what he would and wouldn't do. The man has no conscience. Besides, it would require his cooperation and he has no reason to cooperate."

"Let's try talking to whoever is in Dre's cell then," Wendy suggested.

That sounded reasonable. The woman who made the threat had all but dared him to check the prison. He pressed the intercom button. "O'Neill, get me Brussels International Supermax and tell them I want to talk to whomever is in Andrea Dre's cell. If they give you any trouble, get Admiral Noyce to lean on them."

"Aye, sir."

Knowing O'Neill, he wouldn't have to get the admiral. He'd figure out the native tongue of the receptionist and switch to that to gain trust. Then he'd drop Nathan's name and ask so nicely they'd fall all over themselves trying to help.

"You have no doubt they'll let us talk to her," Wendy observed.

"Why shouldn't they?"

"Maybe they have interrogators pressing her already."

"If Dre is still in prison, she won't cooperate with anyone else. She wouldn't give up the chance to taunt _me_ though."

"And if it's a clone in there?"

He shrugged. "She probably mentioned me to her clone."

O'Neill's face appeared on the screen. "I've got Joyce Van Olst in Brussels for you, sir."

"Very good. Put her on."

"Captain Bridger?" Flaxen-haired, shapely, and dressed in a crisply tailored uniform, she wasn't what he expected.

"Yes. Are you the warden?"

She nodded. "Joyce Van Olst, warden for women's division. How can I help you?"

"I need to talk to Andrea Dre."

A smile tugged at her lips. "You and the whole world. It won't do any good."

Nathan donned his charm like a jacket, smiling back with his best PR manners. "Maybe not, but I'd still like to try. Would it be too much trouble?"

"Not at all. Maybe you can break down her amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Wendy asked.

The warden nodded. "The person I have in custody claims she doesn't remember a thing before today. Not who she is or how she got here. Nothing."

"And you're aware there's someone else claiming to be Andrea Dre, sending terrorist threats."

"I'm aware, but _my_ inmate hasn't missed a single bed check and I can't understand how she could make any recordings from here."

"No one is blaming you."

She nodded, but Nathan could tell she wasn't comfortable with all this. No doubt she'd seen the threat and couldn't help but wonder whether she still had the right person in custody. Ms. Van Olst nodded to a guard and another Andrea Dre appeared wearing bright orange coveralls. She wore no makeup and her hair looked like it needed combing.

The guard led her along. "Sit down, Andrea. That's good. Someone else wants to talk to you."

The Andrea-doppelganger complied without resistance. If she was real, she deserved an Oscar. He exchanged a look with Wendy. The psychologist raised her brows.

"Do I know you?" the woman in orange asked.

"Andrea Dre knows me. Are you Andrea?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. They tell me I have Andrea Dre's DNA and fingerprints, and they tell me I've done bad things, but I don't remember."

"Do you remember _seaQuest_?"

She shook her head again. "Sorry."

"What _do_ you remember?" Wendy asked.

"I woke up in a prison cell. There's nothing before that."

"Woodstock? Bill Noyce? Secretary General of the UEO?" Nathan tried.

"Bill Noyce? Is that your name?" the confused inmate asked.

"No, I'm Nathan Bridger. Where did you grow up?"

Another shake of the head. "I don't know."

Wendy touched the top of his hand to let him know she wanted to get a word in here. "You speak English. Who taught you English?"

"I don't remember learning it. It's just how I speak."

Wendy held up her index finger to Nathan. She blurted out, "Parlez-vous Français?" to the screen without changing her inflection.

The inmate didn't even appear to understand the question.

"How about Dutch?" Nathan asked.

"No, Mr. Bridger."

"It's _Captain_. Captain Bridger. You hate my guts."

She gave him a curious, confused look. "I'm sorry. Did I do something bad to you? I don't remember."

Wendy leaned in and whispered, "She really doesn't know you. Her mind is like a child's."

"Or a clone's," he whispered back.

Wendy nodded.

"Ms. Van Olst?" Nathan called. The warden wasn't on screen, but she had to be standing by.

"I told you she wouldn't be any help," she said, stepping into view.

"I wouldn't say that. You've been more help than you realize. Thank you for taking my call."

"Any time, Captain." The warden smiled and disconnected the call.

He turned to Wendy. "Well?"

"I think the warden likes you."

He rolled his eyes. "Forget the warden. What about Dre?"

"If that's really her, she's not pretending. She really does have amnesia. Of course, the most obvious conclusion is that she's a clone."

"Let's assume you're right for the moment. Andrea Dre is somewhere else and there's a clone in her prison cell. If Dre's clone is so clueless, why is Zellar's so much better?"

"Maybe Zellar is still in prison. It can't be easy to break someone out, even with a clone left in his—or her—place."

"I just don't think Dre would have told us if she wasn't sure we already knew. I've seen Dre slip and say the wrong thing. That's what got her caught the last time. This isn't like that."

Wendy nodded thoughtfully.

"You're holding out on me," Nathan said.

She smirked at him.

"Spill it."

"It's just a theory."

"Noted. I still want to hear it."

"How do you learn a language without remembering who taught you?"

Nathan scoffed. "You don't."

"I did. Tim dumped French in my head in about three seconds flat, yet I have no sense that he taught me the language. I feel like I've always known."

"Ingrams," he breathed. "They put some of my memory and personality in an automated attack sub once. But they messed it up and put in Pompous Captain Version 1.0."

She ignored his attempt at humor, lost in thought herself. "You held a memory package for me while I had my mind-reading memories erased in the future. What if Zellar's clone got a memory package with _all_ of Zellar's memories?"

_That_ made sense. Zellar made his clone smart because that would play with people's minds. Dre wouldn't because her ego was too big to allow a rival. "Doctor, you're a genius."

"Thanks, but how does this help?"

"I think this leaves little doubt but that the real psychopaths are out of prison. At least clones would have a chance at being reasonable and rational. Dre and Zellar are much more dangerous."

She sighed, shaking her head.

He set a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's not your fault. Step one is always 'Know your enemy'. We know now. Thank you, Doctor."

She nodded.

He checked his watch. "I need you back here for the meeting in thirty minutes. We're going to have an old fashioned skull-session before Levin and Westphalen leave."

"I'll be here."


	68. Chapter 91

**Chapter 91**

Nathan entered the ward room to find everyone seated and waiting. He could tell when he walked in that they didn't stop chatting just for him. Faces were grave and no one was in a chatty mood.

"Lieutenant Brody, who is on your security team?"

"Ford, Shan, O'Neill, and Dagwood."

A little surprised to hear O'Neill mentioned, he quickly remembered the last mission and how large an opponent he'd beaten. He didn't embarrass himself or Tim by questioning it. Their GELF janitor, however, wasn't in the room to be offended. "Why Dagwood?"

"Gen-U-Flect is involved, right? We don't know whether they might use GELFs against us. The last time we all got gassed, who didn't pass out? Dagwood."

Nathan considered. He found himself impressed Brody had thought of such a contingency. He already had brains and experienced fighters. In fact, he was draining the bridge of his best people, but he told Brody he could have anyone he wanted and guarding Kristin was too important to hold back. "Have you asked him?"

"Yes, sir. I told him 'Bad people might try to hurt Dr. Westphalen and Dr. Levin' and he wanted to help. I didn't even have to promise to take him to a restaurant."

This brought some smiles around the table. Dagwood usually didn't care much about shore leave unless someone mentioned food. Nathan let a small smile touch his lips and he winked at Kristin.

Hitchcock frowned and stared into the tabletop.

"Concerns, Commander?"

"He's a civilian, Captain." While not exactly a put-down, for her, it was no minor objection.

"Yes he is, but he will follow your orders as long as you don't ask him to hurt anyone."

"Protecting the doctors might require he hurt someone."

He nodded. "True, but don't tell him that. I can understand your concern. He's not the brightest bulb, but he's very protective. He killed a man the size of Matthew with his bare hands without even meaning to. Tell him to protect and defend. Let any harm be a side effect."

The lieutenant commander listened, but her eyes said she wasn't quite placated yet. "So it's all right to put him in danger to take advantage of his strength and GELF physiology?"

_Ouch_. The exploitation card again.

Ford spoke up. "With the fate of the world at stake, and his permission, yes."

"He's not that stupid," Lucas said, a little more defensively than Nathan thought was warranted.

"No one's calling him stupid," Hitchcock retorted softly.

"How about if I talk to him?" Dr. Smith offered. "Make sure he understands the dangers before he goes?"

"I'm still not sure he _can_ understand," Hitchcock said.

Wendy used a calm clinical voice. "Maybe not as fully as you or I could, but his people are in danger too. He got sick, remember? Any GELFs that haven't been vaccinated are just as vulnerable as humans are. Besides Mariah and a few others, most of them are peaceful and kind, just like Dagwood. He's not just protecting some random doctors because they're his friends. Dr. Westphalen and Dr. Levin hold the key to helping his people too."

"He'll follow orders?" Hitchcock asked, staring at Brody this time.

Brody didn't have a chance to answer because Ford cut in. "Yes. If he doesn't, I'll handle it."

That clinched it; Nathan saw it in her eyes. Her brows relaxed and her voice was back to normal. "Okay, if he accepts the risk and he'll follow orders, I'm good."

Pleased with how the exchange went, Nathan plowed on. "All right, more than half of you will be leaving us soon. Lieutenant O'Neill, I want you to call Special Agent Watkins at your earliest convenience. I don't know what kind of underground bunker they might be using for vaccine development, but there's a good chance PALs won't work. I want backup communication in place."

Tim nodded. "Done, sir."

"Who is Special Agent Watkins?" Townsend asked.

"That's classified," Nathan said. "Don't go digging, either. Just be glad we have communication capability our enemies can't detect and can't thwart."

Townsend had the good sense to drop it. Nathan felt a little badly for him being stuck on _seaQuest_ with all that was going on. Surely NCIS was up to its neck in working on the terrorist threats and could use him. "I'm sorry I had to take my people off your murder/kidnap case. If I could get you back to shore, would you want to go?"

"I'm not going to break up your security team," he said.

Nathan chuckled. "Good, because that wasn't what I had in mind. There's not enough room on the jet copter, but after our team flies out, unless I get other orders, _seaQuest_ can keep going until we're just off the coast. A shuttle launch can take you in, if you want."

"I'll call my superiors and ask what they want me to do. Thank you, Captain."

Nathan was thinking of unloading the stranded pilot that way too. He didn't mind guests like Mika; she was at home under the sea. But people who got stuck on a submarine because of logistics could go stir-crazy mighty quick. Besides which, no self-respecting Navy pilot would like being grounded if fighting broke out. Townsend might be able to study his case notes or make vid-link calls, but a pilot would be utterly useless and bored on _seaQuest_.

Nathan turned to Lucas. "Mr. Wolenczak, I want you to abandon Dr. Wise's computer and get me some answers on this terrorist threat."

Lucas grinned widely.

It was a good thing this exactly what he wanted. Otherwise, it would sound like way too much assignment for any one person. "How did they steal the virus from the CDC? How did they get Dre and Zellar out of prison? What other—"

"You really think Zellar is out of prison?" Kristin blurted out. She didn't look chagrined for having interrupted.

Nathan sidestepped her question. "The woman in Dre's prison cell is definitely not her. Everyone else thinks she's faking amnesia, but she couldn't fool Dr. Smith. It's a clone who woke up in a prison cell, completely clueless."

"Zellar wasn't clueless." Kristin crossed her arms over her chest.

"We have a theory on that," Nathan said, glancing at Wendy.

The Chief Psychologist took over. "I think Gen-U-Flect has a way to transfer memory. They may use telepaths or they might use the same technology the navy used to put Captain Bridger's personality and _older_ memories into that drone attack sub we went after last year."

Bless her for emphasizing 'older'. It still ate at him that anything they took from his head could have fired missiles on New Cape Quest. Several people shuddered at the mention of that sub. It had been too close. Now they were looking at another equally horrific threat.

"Then why didn't Dre's clone get her memories?" Kristin asked.

"Maybe something went wrong and they weren't able to perform the transfer for some reason," Wendy said.

"Or maybe she wanted it that way," Nathan said. "Women don't even like to be caught wearing the same dress at a party. Bad enough to have someone with your face and body and fingerprints, but that much was necessary to gain freedom. Leaving her dumb might be a calculated strategy. She assumed Zellar would think the same way. That's why she tipped his hand. She needs Zellar for his experience in bio-terrorism and for the fear his name invokes, but she had no idea he'd play psychological games for his own amusement."

"That suggests they didn't have very good communication," Shan said. "Like they haven't met, at least not before Dre's recording was made."

"Agreed."

"What about Franklin Wise?" Townsend asked.

"I don't think Wise was cooperating," Hitchcock said. "They wouldn't have needed to vandalize his home and kill his… uh…"

"Sons," Kristin provided. "That's what he calls them. Mika still calls him 'Father.'"

"Sons," Hitchcock confirmed.

"Dre didn't actually say it was Gen-U-Flect helping her," Lucas mused out loud. "She just said she had cloning technology and 'scientists' on her side. We assume it's Gen-U-Flect because they were another party listening in on Wise. What if it's not related?"

Nathan scratched his chin. "We don't know Gen-U-Flect is involved, but we know whoever stole the virus was at Abalon." He nodded at Brody, Smith, and Townsend. "That wasn't a cold you all caught."

"If it isn't Wise or Gen-U-Flect, who else could be cloning?" Wendy asked.

Kristin's brows slanted. "Playing with human DNA is supposed to be outlawed," she growled. "Clones, GELFs, all of it."

"So are biological weapons," Levin added. "Outlawed, I mean."

Nathan gave his communications officer a pointed look. "Lieutenant, you want to quote that UN resolution again?"

Tim didn't look even remotely like he wanted to, but it needed saying and Nathan didn't want to be the one to say it. The lieutenant adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "Uh, they technically only outlawed genetic engineering for the purpose of making soldiers. That way geneticists could keep working on fighting human diseases."

"_Fighting_, not creating!" Kristin exclaimed.

"Since when have terrorists cared about laws anyway?" Hitchcock said.

"_They_ don't," Ford said. "But legitimate businesses _do_. They're in it for profit. So who is paying Gen-U-Flect—or whatever scientists—if there's no government behind this? Dre and Zellar have been in prison. Their assets are frozen."

"Like Zellar should be," Kristin muttered.

Hitchcock snapped her fingers. "Lucas, maybe you can get one of your Node 3 friends to look into the money trails. Someone has to be footing the bills."

Lucas chuckled. "You should ask Nick, Commander. He's scared to death of you."

"I told him thanks for his help last time," she said with mock innocence. She knew why he was intimidated and she _relished_ it.

"I could find it just as well as Nick," Lucas said.

Nathan cleared his throat. "I don't care who does it if we get answers. You've already got a lot on your plate. If you can delegate any part to someone you trust, then do it."

"You got it, Captain."

He'd have to remember how Lucas was more concerned about being under-utilized or under-appreciated than being given such monumental tasks. The kid was happier now than he'd been in days.

"Anyone else have any thoughts on this?"

Tim forced a small cough. "Perhaps you might want to introduce Special Agent Watkins to Admiral Noyce or Secretary McGath, sir. If communications get disrupted, we could always talk to each other, but that doesn't exactly help if the higher-ups have their finger on the nuclear arming button."

He didn't normally worry that much about losing communication with the outside world, but who knew what nasty plans Dre might have for _seaQuest_? Lucas didn't have Tim's knack for hardware. If _seaQuest_ lost communications while his head communications officer and his chief engineer were both gone, they'd be in a pickle. "Good idea. You let our special agent know why it's important and I'll arrange it."

Tim nodded.

Nathan checked his watch. "The jet copter is due in fifteen minutes. I don't know when I might see those of you who are leaving, but you all watch each other's backs and keep your eyes and ears open."

A chorus of "Yes, sir!" preceded all the officers spontaneously standing. Nathan stood too and they all saluted together. He felt a lump trying to form in his throat, but he swallowed it down.


	69. Chapter 92

**Chapter 92**

Lucas went up to the heliopad to see everyone off. It wasn't often _seaQuest_ surfaced and had a jet copter land on top of her. Most of his goodbyes were casual, but he had to hug Dr. Westphalen. He could tell by the way Captain Bridger was acting that he was concerned about her. Lucas also hugged Katie, since the jet-copter pilot brought Kendall in with him. It looked like Katie would be going back to Pearl when all this was over, rather than coming back to _seaQuest_.

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered to her.

"Hey, we'll see each other again," Katie said.

He nodded even though he didn't feel very comforted. Playing with Jarvis was fun, but she really didn't need him anymore for that. Sure, he could visit almost any time he wanted, but that just wasn't the same as having her back on _seaQuest_.

"I'll miss you too," Katie answered his silence.

"You're welcome on _seaQuest_ any time," the captain said. "We can call it conferring, or you can just visit."

"Sir, what if I…" she trailed off as her eye caught Kendall disembarking the jet copter.

"If you _what_, Commander?"

"Never mind."

The captain followed her gaze and then looked back at her. "I stand by what I said before. You're always welcome on _seaQuest_."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The two of them locked eyes for a second and Lucas tried not to read anything into it, but they sure looked like they were having telepathic communication.

She stood up straighter. "I'm still under your command as long as Dr. Westphalen and Dr. Levin are grounded. I won't stand down unless you or Commander Ford order it."

"I appreciate it. You may want to add Admiral Noyce to your list."

She shook her head. "Not until someone comes up with some way to prove the admiral is really himself and not a clone. Until then, everyone on land is suspect except those who stay under our constant watch."

Bridger smiled. "Whose idea was that?"

"Brody's."

"Good plan. Refer the admiral to me if necessary."

Katie let a smile touch her lips. "Aye, sir."

Just then, Dagwood caught Lucas in a hug… at least Lucas assumed that's what it was. He'd seen others doing it and he'd taken up the practice himself, which was why Miguel had grunted a few seconds ago. Dagwood's hugs, while well-meant, came across more like riding a steam roller over a tube of toothpaste. Lucas gasped, trying to get air into compressed lungs. "Not so hard, Dag," he said with barely any voice.

Dagwood released him. "Sorry."

Lucas gulped quickly, but he tried to minimize his reaction. Dagwood didn't mean to be rough. "You watch the doctors, okay? Even if someone who looks like a friend is threatening them, it's probably not the real friend." If Dagwood hadn't already been the victim of mistaken identity due to cloning, this would have been harder to explain, but Lucas felt sure he understood what was going on. Dr. Smith had had a nice long talk with him.

Captain Bridger looked relieved Lucas had done the pep-talk. The captain was never prejudiced against GELFs, but he always looked a bit uncomfortable around Dagwood.

Katie stepped up into the cockpit while the others started entering through the cargo doors. Lucas connected a high-five with Tim, Will, and Joshua as they passed, but he only had time to wave at Ford and Brody. Dr. Westphalen lingered for a moment with the captain and they kissed, which was pretty rare outside of their quarters or on shore leave. They didn't strike Lucas as embarrassed or prudish, just classy and discreet. They didn't have to wait for Dr. Westphalen. She boarded last and then the big metal door slammed shut.

Katie looked out the window, probably wondering if she should start the rotors while everyone was still on deck. The captain gave her a thumbs-up. She nodded and the jet-copter engines roared to life. Sea-spray, wind, and deafening noise confirmed it was time to get off the pad. Lucas waved one last time and ran back inside.

Kendall and the pilot followed him in, but the captain didn't come until the floor bobbed slightly when the copter lifted off and changed _seaQuest_'s buoyancy. Once the captain was inside, he shut the outer hatch so they could all hear again. He looked at Lucas while sweeping his hand toward the pilot. "Mr. Wolenczak, will you show Lieutenant Ranier to the guest quarters vacated by Hitchcock, please?"

"Sure." He took off down the hall, checking over his shoulder to be sure the pilot followed. He looked kind of peaky, but Lucas knew navy guys found any questions about seasickness to be offensive or taboo or something. When they were sitting in the mag-lev, he asked, "You don't have claustrophobia or… _anything_, do you?"

The guy laughed. "You ever seen a cockpit? No way I could be a pilot if I had claustrophobia."

"Medbay is always open and Dr. Smith is cool about keeping secrets."

"Yeah, okay," he said off-handedly, but his eyes looked interested.

"The rocking stops when we submerge," Lucas said, trying to make it sound like he told every guest this. Truthfully though, hardly anyone ever arrived by air to a _seaQuest_ that was surfaced. Not even Tim got seasick on a shuttle.

The guy nodded, staring straight ahead at the mag-lev wall.

The doors opened and Lucas led the way, pointing out the mess hall and explaining which corridor led to the launch bay (in case of emergency) and how to get to the crew lounge and gym. The guy was polite, but unlike the majority of other guests, he just didn't seem excited to be on a submarine. Darwin swam by in an aquatube and Lucas waved, but the stodgy pilot hardly noticed. "Here we are," Lucas announced when they made it to the guest quarters.

"Thanks, uh…" He glanced at Lucas's uniform and his brows slanted. "What did the captain say your name was?"

"Wolenczak, but you can call me Lucas."

"Thanks, Lucas." He stepped inside and shut the door.

No _'How'd a kid end up on a submarine?' _No_ 'What do you do for fun around here?' _Nothing. Maybe the captain had been right to worry about the pilot being a clone. At least now, he couldn't do any harm to Dr. Westphalen.

Lucas turned to leave and heard a hatch open. He looked back to see if Ranier finally found his tongue, but it wasn't his door. Agent Townsend emerged from the next door down. "Lucas! Just the man I wanted to find."

"Really?" He didn't get too flattered. Townsend probably wanted him to defrag a hard drive or something. "Aren't you leaving?"

He shook his head. "My supervisor said they don't need me up there."

"So you want me to sneak into NCIS command and get your orders changed."

He laughed. "I'm not actually in the navy. More like a cop. I could get off _seaQuest_ if I pushed my boss a little. I asked to stay and help _you_, if you'll let me."

Lucas flashed a dubious look.

"Really. I might have some clearance codes that could be useful and I know a little bit about investigating."

"I sometimes do things a little… _unconventionally_." He really wanted to say 'illegally' but that wasn't very smart to admit to a guy who just said he was a cop.

"Good."

The teen blinked. "What?"

"You're working for the Navy and the UEO. That means you've got lives and international security riding on the information you compile. I see how Bridger trusts you. His file indicates he doesn't throw trust around lightly. If he trusts you, that's good enough for me. So, can I help?"

"If the captain says it's okay, then yeah, sure."

"I already asked him before he went up to the heliopad. He said it was up to you."

"Cool. Let's go then." He figured the captain wouldn't want him working on the bridge if Townsend was going to collaborate. They'd need a place where they could talk and not disturb anyone. He headed to the bridge to find out where the captain wanted them to confer.

"Ah, I see Special Agent Townsend found you," the captain said as they walked through the clamshell doors.

"He said you approved us working together." He kept all indication of doubt out of his tone.

"Only if you want him to, pal."

Lucas shrugged. "Two heads are better than one. Where do you want us?"

"Anywhere you can find a quiet place that's secure. I don't want other science or enlisted personnel walking in on you."

The teen smirked. "I guess that rules out the mess."

The captain played along. "I guess it does. How about the ward room?"

Lucas glanced at Townsend, who simply shrugged. "Ward room it is." Lucas nodded a quick hello-goodbye to Miguel. The bridge sure seemed quiet and empty without Tim, Brody, Ford, Will, and Katie. He was kind of glad he didn't have to stick around in the emptiness.

"You both remember to take breaks and eat," the captain said, probably in a lame attempt to appoint Townsend as his babysitter.

"Yes, _Dad_," Lucas said with exaggerated condescension.

The captain winked and clapped him on the back. Lucas felt a pang of regret for comparing him to his real father, but he caught himself before he apologized. The captain had recognized it for the joke it was. He probably couldn't imagine the word _Dad_ being anything but positive.

They got the computer in the ward room set up so they could share the monitor, forgoing the temptation to just splash everything onto the huge screen on the wall. The captain had said to keep their work from accidental viewing and that was just begging for trouble.

"So what's up first?" Townsend asked.

"I need to call Node 3 and get Nick working on the money trail. You probably better stay out of the frame."

Townsend nodded and scooted his chair sideways. Lucas angled the monitor a little and typed in the numbers to connect the call.

"Frankie!" Nick exclaimed.

"Hey, Wolfman. You up for some black ops in the real world?"

Nick's eyes lit up.

"Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock recommended you personally for this job."

"Is she there?" His interest melted into trepidation.

"She's on special assignment off the boat right now."

"Don't tell her I freaked out like that. She's hot but she's scary."

Lucas smirked. "She's also _taken_, Nick."

"What can I do for _seaQuest_ then?"

"Did you hear about Andrea Dre?"

"You mean threatening to kill everyone with plague if we don't make her the Supreme Ruler or something? No one's taking it seriously."

"We are."

He bolted upright. "Really? She could do really do it?"

"We think she's working with Rubin Zellar and genetic engineers from Gen-U-Flect."

"The Dagger Dweebs?"

Lucas chuckled. "Yeah, but they're not building camo-skinned soldiers anymore. We think they're making clones of regular people—really good ones. There's an exact replica of Dre in her prison cell."

"Crap. That's mega."

"Yeah. Hitchcock and I thought you would be perfect for finding out where the money is coming from to pay for the tech and the scientists and all that. You up for it?"

"I don't have to _move_ money, just _follow_ it?"

Lucas shook his head. "No interfering, just get us information."

"You got it. Can Juliana help?"

"Yeah, but no one else. It's better everyone think it's some kind of joke. There could be panic if the truth got out."

"Stealth mode. You got it."

"_Ultra_ stealth mode, Nick. They've got a good hacker working for them. Fooled me with fake IPs and everything."

"You got it, Frankie." As expected, Nick took the news of opposition as a challenge.

Lucas cut off the link and re-positioned the monitor again so Townsend could see.

"Just like that? He's not worried?" Townsend asked.

Lucas chuckled. "He's more worried about Hitchcock. He'll be fine. He lives for stuff like this."

Townsend didn't respond. He probably didn't think Nick could do what they asked, or do it without getting caught. At least he didn't argue about something dumb like his age or the length of his hair.

Now that Lucas had blanket permission to go poke into any aspect of the crime of the century he so desired, it was kind of hard to decide what should come first. Since he had this special agent dude sitting right next to him, he figured he'd feel the guy out. "What do you think is more important, figuring out how they got into the CDC and stole the virus, or how they smuggled clones into maximum security prisons?"

"They probably used similar methods in both places, but I bet you'll have less trouble going with the prison angle."

"Why?"

"If the perps were going to be careless at all, they would have done it at the prisons. Prisons are set up to keep people _inside_, not to keep people out. Getting in there had to be the 'easy part' and if it was easy, you can bet they probably didn't hide as well. If we can figure out how they got into prison, it'll probably help figure out how they got into the CDC."

Lucas liked the way this guy thought. He started typing and pulling up websites before Townsend was done talking. He had blueprints and security systems specs splayed across the screen in no time. "You wanna take Bladda—" Only Dr. Westphalen had any idea how to pronounce the name of the place and he wasn't going to make an idiot of himself trying. "Uh—Zellar's prison or Brussels Supermax?"

Townsend reached over to the touchpad and clicked on windows. He kept them open long enough to read what was there, and then closed one after another. Lucas watched, wondering what he was doing, but trying to give the guy some credit. He chased criminals all the time. He should know what to check.

"Is this all you got?"

Ka-blink. "What are you looking for?"

"Surveillance footage. Prisons have cameras all over the place."

That was logical and reasonable. Why hadn't he thought of that? Well, he knew why. Because that wasn't something they usually stored on a website. "Should we ask them for it?" After all, the prisons were on their side. They should cooperate.

"No. This all smacks of an inside job. Whoever it was probably doctored the official records. You need to find the raw stuff no one looks at."

"Where would that be?" If the guy said it was on magnetic tape in someone's hall closet, Lucas was about ready to deck him.

"You know how to hack internal systems?"

He'd already been in the Indian Ocean facility's computers once before, trying to soothe Dr. Westphalen's worries. "Yeah. Piece of cake."

"Good. Get us in."

Lucas sneaked a look at Townsend's face. He knew this was illegal and he was properly solemn about it, but he also didn't evince any concern over repercussions. Dre and Zellar were plotting a global catastrophe and he was going to stop them, no matter the cost. Lucas was starting to like him. He clicked away on the keyboard to get into the prison's internal computer. It wasn't connected to the Internex, so he had to find one that was and piggyback though that. Luckily, the main systems computer was used to monitor what prisoners did on the Internex, so it wasn't too hard to backtrace that connection and get in.

"You're good," Townsend muttered.

"I promise not to use my powers for evil," Lucas snarked back.

"No, really. NCIS could use someone with your talents."

"Thanks, but _seaQuest_ is my home."

"We have Agents Afloat on lots of subs."

Surely this guy had to know no other submarine would come anywhere close to _seaQuest_. Beyond that, Darwin and his family were here. Lucas decided not to argue, since Townsend seemed to be paying a compliment. Another click and the monitor displayed an archive of dated video files. That had to be it. Pages and pages of files scrolled on forever.

"Well, any guess on how far back we should go snooping?"

Townsend shook his head. "Not a clue."

Lucas sighed. "It's gonna be a long day."


	70. Chapter 93

**Chapter 93**

Wendy collapsed on her bed. She was trying not to over-exert herself, since she'd only recovered from a deadly disease in the last two days. Yet it seemed ages ago she'd been bedridden. She'd resumed autopsies only to have them postponed, then she'd tried to help Nathan psychoanalyze clones by vid-link, followed by a tense staff meeting, and then tapping all the first tour crew for blood donations from their duty stations. Did the captain have any _idea_ how hard it was to hit a vein while a crewman was sitting in helm control, trying to drive the most sophisticated submarine on the planet? True, it was probably just as hard for Miguel to keep his attention on all the WSKRS while someone poked his arm and told him to squeeze a rubber ball. She hoped they never had to perform another on-duty blood drive ever again.

Wendy felt Nathan's apprehension for Kristin and Joshua, but she wasn't very worried herself, not with the team Brody had assembled. Not only were they well-protected, but as long as Tim was there, they would have perfect communication, too. Tim now had enough experience he didn't need adrenalin to Transmit to Wendy, but Wendy still needed Mary to be able to answer. However, that was no longer a problem, as Mary had a good working relationship with the captain and she didn't mind being on-call for a mission. In fact, she loved being able to help.

It hadn't been that long ago Wendy was CMO, but she felt awkward to be in charge of Medbay in Kristin's absence. Her feelings confirmed she'd made the right decision to step down and concentrate on mental disciplines. She'd been mildly concerned the crew would think her superfluous as soon as her If patients stopped needing counseling, but that hadn't been the case. The captain consulted her when it came to profiling psychotic criminals and even Kristin recognized she had more experience with GELF medicine. She was still respected, still needed.

She had more friends now too. Lonnie had never been very close and there hadn't been any other women to connect with on the last tour. Now she had Kristin and she had even grown close to Katie. Between the Juno trip and her short time on _seaQuest_, Wendy was truly sorry to have to say goodbye to the lieutenant commander. She tried not to pry, but the emotional conflict Katie felt over serving on _seaQuest_ practically oozed from every pore. She suspected it had something to do with Ben, but there was probably more to it.

Then there was Joshua. She hadn't planned to invest a lot of emotional energy in him when she bid on him at the auction. He was simply the only man she could see herself with in a purely social activity outside of work. He was intelligent and interesting and the auction was for a good cause. To her surprise, he was happy she had been the one to win. Okay, so she cheated a little on the empathy there, but it was really for his own good. She would have embarrassed them both if she had tried to downplay his feelings. It wasn't like he was full-blown madly in love with her, nor she with him, but they were more than just friends and colleagues now. His voice and calm reason had soothed her virus-induced rage where Kristin's compassion and Nathan's patience failed. They were taking their relationship slowly and carefully, but it was quite the pleasant development nonetheless.

Barring an emergency, she was too tired to do anything right now, but she wondered what she was supposed to do when she was rested. Everyone on _seaQuest_ had already been vaccinated. Kristin even left some vaccine behind, "Just in case they blow our jet copter out of the sky," she'd whispered darkly. Wendy didn't even want to think about a catastrophe of that magnitude. Not that the prospect of biological warfare was any better.

She really couldn't do anything to help the CDC from here on _seaQuest_. So, should she just go back to autopsying the bodies of Kaman and Shapra or should she try to figure out how Rubin Zellar transferred all his memories into the clone he'd left in his prison cell? The latter, of course, was far more interesting, even if it would be a difficult puzzle. While intelligent, Zellar had no record of any kind of psi aptitude. That meant they either had lots of neuro-electric equipment to accomplish the memory transfer, which was unlikely if they had to do it while dodging prison guards, or they had a telepath facilitating the process.

Of course, those were the less-terrifying options. It was also possible someone else discovered the link between Genome Wave Energy and telepathic ability and used it on Zellar to make _him_ telepathic, in which case he was not only an insane genius bent on killing millions of people in hideous ways, but he could possibly force his way into minds and compel others to do his bidding, as Clay Marshall had. The promise of such a power may have been more enticing to the mind-gamer than whether or not his clone got his memories.

Wendy hoped that possibility was just her overactive imagination. Ever since If, she couldn't keep herself from conjuring up horrible worst-case-scenarios. What Andrea Dre had threatened was bad enough. She really needed to stop thinking it could be worse.

She decided she'd ask Nathan in the morning what he wanted her to do. Maybe there'd be a lead before then. Dre hadn't given a deadline yet. Maybe she'd call live next time and Wendy could feel her out better. The empathic doctor had already decided she would throw her ethics out the window if she got the chance. No one threatening to kill millions of innocent people with a purposely-mutated virus had any right to privacy of thought. Hadn't Clay taunted her for not using her abilities when it was necessary? The thought of Clay led her mind to another idea.

Wendy sat up and reached for the small vid-link terminal that sat on her bedside desk. She scrolled through her contact list and found Chatton Parapsychology Center. She typed the number, but waited for the computer to display the local time at her destination before she clicked on connect.

Laura Fletcher's face appeared on the screen. "Wendy, what a surprise! How are you?"

"Not bad," she replied. "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner to check on you after Clay's death."

The lovely African-American woman scoffed. "According to the news, you've been rather busy yourself."

True, there really hadn't been time after Laura left _seaQuest_ before Wendy had been swept up in the Admiral Overbeck crisis, and then sucked into the Mobius Hole, followed immediately by the _Wile. E. Coyote_ Incident, Tim getting kidnapped, and then the captain's wedding. However, she'd had at least a month of leave after that before having to report for the next tour, not to mention weeks of Deinosuchus search when she hadn't been very busy. She _could have_ called sooner. "I have, Laura, but that's no excuse. How have _you_ been?"

"Much better since… well, you know."

Wendy nodded.

"This isn't just a social call," Laura said. Not a question. A statement.

"I'm afraid not. You wouldn't happen to know if any former Chatton students went to work for Gen-U-Flect or any other genetic engineering facility, would you?"

Her brows furrowed slightly. She turned to a computer and typed a quick command, then looked back up, shaking her head. "None that we know of, but you know not everyone bothers to report their job status after they leave."

Wendy sighed. "I know. It was a long shot."

"Give me some time and I'll check the Internex grapevine. I tend to find people better on Facebook than in the official database."

"That would be great, Laura." She tried to control her disappointment at not getting an immediate answer. Laura was a strong empath. She'd pick up anything Wendy didn't push well behind her walls. "Speaking of grapevine, did you hear about Mary Watkins?"

"Is she still around? I thought for sure she died of grief."

"No, she's not dead. I introduced her to one of _seaQuest_'s lieutenants and they're engaged now."

"You little matchmaker! Wow. Never thought she'd come out of hiding, much less let a man get close."

"She's still a hermit, but she's opening up, little by little. You should call her sometime."

"Does she have vid-link?"

Wendy chuckled. "Voice only."

Laura laughed. "I should have known."

"If you want to update those official records of yours, I'm no longer the Chief Medical Officer on _seaQuest_. I'm now Chief Psychologist and I'm exploring parapsychology when I can."

"Really? And the UEO is paying?"

She cringed. "No, not exactly. I have private funding." Laura could probably guess 'private funding' was her own resources, but she'd be polite enough not to voice it.

"That's great, Wendy. You let us know if there's ever anything you need from us." Laura had sensed her need to end the call. Sometimes it was really refreshing to talk to another empath.

"I will, thanks." The call irised out.

Although sleep was foremost on her mind, Wendy needed to have a shower, so she pulled her uniform off. She hadn't really liked the coveralls at first, but with Lucas now wearing one, she would have stood out to be the only one not wearing it. More importantly, she'd decided to switch because her forced mind-links on If had revealed a good number of the men thought her old mode of dress was immodest. So like it or not, she made the decision.

Then, to her surprise, she found wearing the uniform made her feel more like part of the team, and that was important when she had a new supervisor and new colleagues who didn't know her. Furthermore, it was much easier to get dressed every day when the what-to-wear decision was already made. Now she couldn't imagine ever going back to her own wardrobe for work.

She dragged her tired body three steps into the ion shower in her quarters. She'd save her water ration for when she had the strength to go down the hall.

Body sanitized, she rustled through her drawer for something to sleep in. Just as she got her nightshirt on, her hair and teeth brushed, and slipped under the covers, her PAL beeped.

"Smith," she sighed into the speaker.

"Doctor," Nathan said in a hushed but urgent tone, "Andrea Dre is on vid-link. Please come to the bridge."

If Wendy had any expectation that Andrea Dre would actually engage her, she would have put on a clean uniform, but she figured Nathan wanted her to _listen in_, not participate. So, with speed in mind, Wendy grabbed a bath robe and tore out of her quarters. She managed to get her arms through the sleeves of the robe as she ran down the corridors barefoot. A couple of people gave her odd looks, but she didn't care. This was an emergency.

She arrived on the bridge in her robe, panting heavily. The vid-screen was divided like a conference call with McGath, Dre, Noyce, and the President of the United States each in their own square. Nathan glanced at her, raised a brow briefly at her attire, but said nothing. He bade her forward with a curled finger. Evidently, he wasn't in on the call either, just listening in, probably through Noyce's connection.

"…but no decision has been reached," McGath finished what had surely been an eloquent speech.

Dre scowled. "Yes, I know how your infernal council works. Everyone talks forever and nothing gets done. You shouldn't need any more proof than that, that your antiquated _system…_" she sneered the word as if it were distasteful, "…doesn't work."

The president broke in: "So…what? You make yourself a dictator and you think people will stand for that? This isn't the Dark Ages, Andrea. Get over yourself."

"Get over myself? That's all you have to say, Bob? Time's up. Dissolve the UEO or pay the consequences." She made a cut-throat motion and her square went dark.

Wendy had been scanning Dre, but she was unprepared for the revelation when the word 'consequences' passed her lips. She gasped and her footing faltered.

Nathan caught and steadied her. "What is it, Wendy?"

Still reeling, she gulped. "Are we secure?" She gestured to the vid-screen.

"They can't hear us," Nathan said.

"Maybe they should. It's New Zealand. They're going to unleash the virus in New Zealand. No one will take them seriously until they prove they're not afraid to use it."

Several people on the bridge gasped.

"Damn," Nathan breathed. He turned to the communications officer sitting at Tim's station. "Get me the admiral and the secretary general now!"

"I can't connect without the president hearing too," the comms officer said.

"Fine, put them all through."

Keys clicked and the vid-link lights indicated they were connected. Nathan let go of Wendy and stepped to the center of the picture. "I'm sorry for the interruption, gentlemen, but my empathic doctor was listening and she has a disturbing development to share."

The men all had grave looks on their faces already, but they didn't object. After the Avatar, they all respected her reputation.

Admiral Noyce gave her an encouraging nod. "Go ahead, Dr. Smith."

"New Zealand, Admiral. They're going to unleash the virus there to prove they're serious."

"Can we stop them?" McGath's voice was dripping with desperation. "Give her what she wants?"

Wendy shook her head. "No. They've already planned it. It's isolated enough that the rest of the world could escape contamination while still being an effective demonstration of their power. No one will dare defy her after she annihilates an entire country."

Noyce pointed his index finger at the screen. "Get _seaQuest_ to the South Pacific. Now. Use the canal this time."

"Aye, Admiral. And Kristin?"

"She's been vaccinated. She'll be fine." He held up a halting hand. "Don't ask me the plan. You know just as much as I do. I'm sure she'll call."

Nathan stood tall and paid a stately nod to the world leaders. "Good luck, Mr. Secretary, Mr. President."

Someone said, "Thank you, Captain," as all the squares went dark.

Nathan didn't give anyone on the bridge time to comment. "You heard the admiral. Full speed to the Panama Canal."


	71. Chapter 94

**Chapter 94**

Kristin had only been in Atlanta for 8 hours when Admiral Noyce called. They put the call through to the underground sterile room where everyone wore scrubs and surgical masks, including her security entourage of naval officers and one large GELF. Bill Noyce's face was grim. "Dr. Westphalen, get your team ready to move immediately. Dr. Smith got into Dre's head. They're going to use the virus in New Zealand."

Kristin gasped. "No."

"I'm afraid so. They think the world needs a demonstration to prove they're serious."

"Seriously demented," she muttered.

"Is Lieutenant Commander Hitchcock there?"

Everyone looked much the same in scrubs, hats, and masks. Hitchcock stepped forward. "Here, Admiral."

"You're taking the _seaQuest_ contingent of our Emergency Response Team to New Zealand in thirty minutes. Pack light."

Another masked figure stepped forward. Brody's voice asked, "Forgive me, Admiral, but has Captain Bridger discussed the identity problem with you?"

"Who is that?"

He pulled his mask down. "Brody, sir." He replaced the mask immediately after speaking.

"Yes, Lieutenant, he mentioned it. I don't know how to prove I'm not a clone, but you can call _seaQuest_ and confirm what Dr. Smith said. I should hope that's enough to convince you these orders are valid."

"Yes sir."

Kristin spoke up again. "Admiral, what is the current population of New Zealand?"

Noyce sighed. "Five million."

"Five _million_? We don't have anywhere near enough antidote!"

"I know, Doctor. The head of the CDC just told me you have enough for half a million. Dr. Peché is bringing more with the North Sea Confederation team, but I know it's not enough."

She planted her hands on her hips. "Who decides who will get what we have?"

"The New Ausland Confederation. They've invited us to set up in Auckland and Christchurch. Depending on how the virus is introduced and how widely it spreads, they'll coordinate a lottery, if necessary, and provide riot control. The UEO will handle containment."

"Containment?" Ford asked.

"After you land, the airports will be closed and the islands will be blockaded. _SeaQuest_ is headed there as we speak."

"Won't that create panic?" Kristin asked.

"You mean any more than a deadly virus?"

Kristin didn't answer and Ford took advantage of her silence. "Admiral, _seaQuest_ can't possibly monitor two islands that size by herself."

"We've got twenty smaller subs and at least thirty surface vessels _en route_ too. They'll be there before you are."

Ford nodded.

"Commander Ford, if Dr. Westphalen and Dr. Levin become endangered, you and Hitchcock are to get them out of there at any cost. If Dre will use the virus once, there's no telling whether she'll use it again. We will give New Zealand every last dose of vaccine we have right now, but the rest of the world may need them to synthesize more."

"Understood, Admiral."

"Good luck, all of you," Noyce said. The screen went blank before anyone had time to reply.

Kristin turned to her bodyguards. "I'm going upstairs to talk to Dr. Rosenfeld."

Ford nodded. "O'Neill and Hitchcock will go with you."

She suppressed the urge to argue. Nathan's executive officer would never back down, no matter how silly she thought he was. She had bigger fish to fry right now anyway. At least he wasn't forcing Dagwood to tag along. O'Neill and Hitchcock could pass for doctors while wearing scrubs and masks. Dagwood could never cover all his skin or disguise his size. He was staying out of everyone's way as it was, but if he followed her up to meet Rosenfeld, it would make them all stand out. She simply nodded to Ford.

The chaos that was just beginning in the basement was already in full swing upstairs. She wondered briefly who would have told them, but decided it didn't matter.

"May I assume that call from Noyce gave you the same instructions as we just received?" Rosenfeld asked.

"New Zealand?"

Rosenfeld nodded even as he directed traffic with hand motions. "I've been told the Navy is handling your transportation."

"Yes, Dr. Levin and I have our own pilot and security team." Kristin canted her head at O'Neill and Hitchcock as representatives of her entourage.

"That's a good idea—not putting all our eggs in one basket."

Kristin agreed it was wise, if a bit impractical, but she really didn't have time for small talk. She reached out and caught Rosenfeld by the elbow and stepped aside so they were not so much in the line of people busily loading boxes. Rosenfeld followed her lead. "You told Noyce we have enough vaccine for half a million people. Forgetting for the moment that that's less than ten percent of the population, can we even immunize that number of people fast enough to do any good? The best I've ever done is 300 patients in an hour, and that was military personnel who'd been trained to stand in line and act in an orderly fashion. They were getting routine vaccines and there was no panic. How many medical personnel and hypospray guns do you have?"

Rosenfeld sighed. "About a hundred." He held up his hand to preclude Kristin from screaming a protest. She only barely allowed it to stop her. "I told Secretary McGath we need more help. He promised he would call the International Red Cross. He assured me we'd have hyposprays and people who knew how to use them."

"Great. Now all we have to do is figure out how to tell the other ninety percent of the population why they can't have the miracle cure we're giving the lucky ones."

"Ten percent is better than none, Doctor," Rosenfeld said wearily.

_Yes, but if you'd destroyed that damned virus when you had a chance, none of this would be necessary_. She refrained from twisting the knife by saying it again. Everyone already knew where she stood. There was no sense harping on the past. She softened her mien. "Maybe Peché will double that number."

"Dr. Peché has vaccine?"

"Didn't they tell you? He's been holed up at some secret location in Europe. Not even Admiral Noyce knew where. He has a team doing the same thing we are, making more vaccine."

"But where did he get the immunity factor?"

Kristin hadn't thought about that. The Americans had several hundred donors because of _seaQuest_ having so many previously-vaccinated people readily available. "He must have used his own blood. I vaccinated him at the same time as everyone else as a precaution back in 2018." Technically, the virus had been well-contained in the quarantine chamber of _seaQuest_, but it was a good thing she'd vaccinated everyone anyway. If she hadn't, the second breakout of a few days ago would have been much worse.

"Don't expect them to have as many doses as we do, then."

"If all they bring are hypospray guns and people who know how to calibrate and administer vaccine, then they'll be saving lives just as well."

"I'm not turning any help away, that's for sure."

Kristin tried to relax a little. This was no small task and everyone was doing their best with what they had. She surveyed the room, watching as people hurried out with load after load of boxes. They were coming up from the basement now, presumably loading planes or jet-copters. Finally, she glanced back at Rosenfeld. The man looked at least ten years older than he had from the vid-link two days ago. She summoned a small smile and spoke lightly: "Do assure me someone has packed the Earl Grey and the coffee."

The head of the CDC stared blankly for a half-second and then broke into laughter.

After they both shared a little levity, Kristin held up her vid-cell. "Here, let me have your number. You do have a private cell, yes?"

He nodded almost absently, like he'd forgotten what a phone was for. He pulled a device out of his pocket and read the number off for her. She programmed him into her phone's memory and then looked up. "You want mine too?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He fiddled with his own cell for a while and then looked at her with chagrin on his face. "Nevermind. I don't even know how to store a number in this thing. I'll make the navy track you down if I need to."

"May I?" O'Neill asked.

Kristin had forgotten he and Hitchcock were standing just behind her. The doctor relinquished his phone to O'Neill, who figured out how to store her number in just a few seconds. Although Kristin tried not to watch too closely, lest she make Rosenfeld suspicious of this stranger who took his phone, she noticed O'Neill set it so his phone would ring its loudest with one of those ultra-shocking alert tones if she ever called him. He even programmed it to override the general phone settings so silent mode didn't apply to her incoming calls. Little sneak.

The lieutenant handed the phone back to the doctor.

"Thanks," he said, although clearly not very appreciative.

Kristin nodded to Rosenfeld. "Good luck, Doctor."

"You too, Doctor."

She turned and headed back downstairs. When they were several steps away, she looked over her shoulder. "Thank you, Tim. I should call him at zero-three-hundred just so he can appreciate what you did for him."

Hitchcock must have noticed what Tim did to the phone because she laughed too.

"He'll probably bring me up on charges," Tim muttered.

"Just let him try," Hitchcock said. "You're a communications officer and you were facilitating communication during a time of crisis."

Tim brightened at Hitchcock's compliment, barely noticeable because he wore a surgical mask and glasses, but Kristin could see the difference in the shape of his eyes and the height of his cheeks. "Not quite as facilitating as our own secret weapon, but he can't have that." She winked at Tim.

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur and before she knew it, they were in the air again. All the supplies had gone on other planes and helicopters, yet they'd still given Katie a larger jet-copter than the one that came from _seaQuest_.

"Bigger fuel tank," Katie explained. "This can get us all the way to Honolulu and after a refuel, all the way to New Zealand. Which gives me an idea." She turned to Ford. "Jonathan, how would you feel about adding another passenger or two?"

"Passengers?"

"Henderson and Kreig."

Ford shook his head. "Krieg's a civilian."

"So is Dagwood, but at least Ben's had training. Look, I know you aren't crazy about him, but what is the one thing we really need right now?"

Kristin caught her meaning and couldn't contain herself from interrupting. "Supply and Morale."

"Exactly," Katie said.

"Krieg can't get us any more vaccine," Ford countered.

"No, but if there are any extra hypospray guns sitting in a warehouse or cargo container anywhere in the Pacific, I'll bet you he can find them, buy them, and have them delivered."

"Are hyposprays that critical?" he asked.

Kristin gave him her most solemn look. "Life or death, Commander. Even if we had five million doses, we couldn't inoculate people without more guns." In fact, if Ford didn't see the wisdom in this, Kristin was prepared to go over his head and call Noyce. Hell, she'd tranquilize Ford and let Katie take command if she had to.

"Call him," Ford said.

Katie smiled. "Thanks, Jonathan. Ben'll come through for us. You watch."

"You should tell him how dangerous this is, Katie. There's likely to be rioting. He doesn't have to come to New Zealand _himself_ just to get us the hyposprays."

"I'll tell him, but this is what he's good at. You saw those CDC people. Not an ounce of organizational skill among them. Ben doesn't have to know how to give shots to be valuable to us. He knows how to organize people and make things go smoothly. He'll multiply the efficiency of everyone else."

"No argument here. He's welcome if he's willing. Same with Henderson. Make sure she knows this is strictly volunteer."

"Hey, _we_ didn't get a choice," Shan piped in with mock-offense. He was attempting to lighten the mood.

"You're an officer. Henderson isn't," Ford said.

"Wait. I've got a better idea," Katie said. "She can take the _Splendor_ to New Zealand and help with the blockade."

"That's your own personal sub, Katie," Ford said.

"Henderson is a highly qualified helmsperson and the LS-909 practically drives itself."

Ford had a pained grimace on his face. "Anyone trying to leave is going to be scared and desperate." He stared pointedly, willing her to read between his spoken lines.

Katherine Hitchcock was no dummy. She smiled. "After I decided to keep her, I asked Ben to have her beefed up a bit. She has conventional torpedoes and countermeasures. She's no match for anything military, of course, but she can hold her own against frightened civilians."

Ford shrugged in defeat. "I'm not even sure I have a say in that. Henderson is temporarily assigned to Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns. That means she's your responsibility."

"Commander," Shan said, though whether he was addressing Ford or Hitchcock, Kristin wasn't sure. "_Splendor_ is an awesome sub, and Henderson is good, but no one should try to handle helm and weapons at the same time, no matter how advanced the systems are."

"Good point, Ensign," Hitchcock said. "So either we send her a co-pilot or call it off. You volunteering?"

"I'm game," Shan said, grinning ear-to-ear.

Katie looked at Ford. Obviously, taking Shan off doctor-guard would be his call.

"So I'm trading a martial arts expert for a retired supply officer who _might_ be able to scrounge up some medical equipment."

"This _is_ a medical relief mission," Kristin reminded him.

Ford looked at Brody, probably not seeking support so much as giving him the chance to object.

Brody shrugged. "You said yourself _seaQuest_ couldn't handle the islands by herself, Commander. I wouldn't say so in front of the admiral, but I don't think twenty is enough either."

Kristin could see the change in his eyes when Jonathan Ford made up his mind. "If Henderson volunteers to take the _Splendor_ to New Zealand, we'll spare Shan to help her. Ben can come with us if he wants."

Tim cleared his throat, his finger hovering over the jet-copter's communications array. "Who do you want to call first?"

"Put Hitchcock through to Krieg and Henderson first. Nothing happens without their consent."

"Aye, sir," Tim said.

Katie leaned in and gave him Ben's contact number. Tim connected them without talking himself, routing it directly to Katie's headset. Kristin zoned out for a while and was seriously contemplating sleep when Katie announced, "Ben's looking into the hyposprays and Henderson is prepping _Splendor_ so she's ready as soon as Shan gets there."

Ford nodded. "All right. We ought to inform _seaQuest_ so the other UEO subs will know _Splendor_ is on their side. Lieutenant?"

Tim had _seaQuest_ dialed in and ready. He handed Ford a headset, hit a button, and nodded the go-ahead.

The commander asked first if there was any better intel on the impending attack and then launched into an explanation of all the plans they'd worked out. It didn't sound like Nathan was arguing. Kristin was ready to take the headset and lay into him herself if she had to. One civilian sub didn't seem very important, so if Nathan balked on that, she'd concede the _Splendor_ issue, but getting Ben Krieg on the hypospray problem was life and death. Lives might very well depend on it.

Ford finished with an "Aye, sir," and then turned to Kristin, handing her the headset. "He wants to talk to you."

She accepted it with a nod and after one attempt at getting the band over her pinned up hairdo, she gave up and just held the earpiece closest to the microphone up to her ear. "Hello, Nathan."

"Are you all right with giving up Shan? How safe do you feel?"

She scoffed. "They won't even let me go to the loo without Hitchcock." She lowered her voice and let a bit of flirtation enter her tone. "So how jealous are you that I'm beating you to the action this time?"

"Yes, of course I'm on the bridge, Doctor." Meaning, he couldn't have this conversation right now.

"Thanks for not shooting down Ben Krieg. The hyposprays are important."

"You're welcome. Don't be a hero. I want my CMO back."

"I love you too."

"Bridger out."

Kristin handed the headset back to Tim. "He hates being late to a party."

"Let's just hope _we're_ early," Levin said.


	72. Chapter 95

**Chapter 95**

The closer _seaQuest_ got to the Panama Canal, the more Nathan didn't like it. He excused himself from the bridge while still several hours short of the Atlantic entrance. Nothing physical in his quarters had changed, but there was an odd emptiness knowing Kristin couldn't walk in at any moment. He pressed the button to bring up Professor Martinson's hologram.

"Hello, Nathan. What's the problem?"

He expected the computer to have figured out how agitated he was, but it surprised him a little that he didn't even have to reveal the 'stress patterns' in his speech. Then again, he very rarely activated the professor at all unless there was a problem. "Admiral Noyce has ordered _seaQuest_ to take the Panama Canal."

"_SeaQuest II_ was built to New Panamax parameters established after the expansions in 2006 and can safely navigate all the locks."

"I know that. I designed her so she could and we've done it before."

"So why is it a problem?"

"It feels like a trap." Hopefully, he didn't have to explain the obvious. Locks were by definition very confining.

"As captain, you are permitted to disregard orders if they put your vessel or crew in jeopardy."

"But the admiral is right! Going around South America takes too long and we're going to have a major catastrophe in New Zealand!"

"If _seaQuest_ is not near New Zealand the moment the catastrophe begins, what is the projected consequence?"

"We need to be there to prevent anyone from leaving and spreading a deadly virus."

"The UEO databanks say twenty other submarines are already on the way and sure to be there before _seaQuest_."

_Twenty_. He couldn't control his frustration. "Do your databanks know how big New Zealand is?"

"New Zealand has a total land area of 103,483 square miles and 9,404 miles of coastline. Do you require the metric conversions?"

Nathan chuckled. "No."

"Twenty submarines with modern sonar should be able to cover the perimeter," Professor Martinson's image droned.

"What happens when that _modern sonar_ detects 40 private subs trying to flee at the same time? They can't all be in two places at once."

"Neither can _seaQuest_."

Nathan scoffed. "Exactly what I tried to tell Congress last year."

"So you're afraid of being trapped in the Panama Canal because it proves your point?"

"No, I'm—" He caught himself. The revelation hit him all at once and he shut the professor down. He had to try to take the canal even if it meant walking into a trap. Even if _seaQuest_ was damaged or heaven forbid, destroyed, it did make his point. Hitchcock could finish the Calypso Project and the UEO, if it still existed, would be forced to buy it from her and probably commission another one. Once he stopped worrying about the five million people who were _not_ his responsibility, and concentrated on his own boat and the scant two hundred lives that _were_, his mind cleared.

_When is a trap not a trap?_ he asked himself in the mirror. His reflection beamed with a new confidence. _When the prey has a contingency plan._

He headed back to the bridge with purposeful strides. Just outside the mag-lev, he found Lucas. "Captain! I was just on my way to the bridge to talk to you." It was a good thing Lucas never tried to lie because his face always betrayed him. He had news.

"What did you find?"

"_We_. I couldn't have done it without Townsend. But yeah, we hit the jackpot. Come to the ward room?"

"Sure, pal."

Lucas turned and Nathan followed him to the ward room. Townsend was lying back in his chair, possibly asleep, but after a few footsteps of their ingress, he blinked awake and sat upright.

"Mr. Wolenczak tells me you've been helpful."

Townsend chuckled. "Oh sure, like the guy who taped up the arrow sign is helpful to the marathon runner."

Nathan shrugged. The arrow signs in a marathon were pretty important but he understood the point. Townsend was trying to give Lucas the most credit.

Lucas sat at the computer keyboard. "Can I use the big screen?"

The captain swept his hand toward the wall monitor. "Be my guest."

"Okay." The monitor flashed to life as Lucas started typing. "This is one of the guards at Zellar's prison."

Footage showed a man in uniform, performing various routine duties inside the undersea prison. While the camera angle changed, the view was always from above and the picture was low resolution and a bit disjointed. "Surveillance cameras," Nathan observed.

"Right," Lucas said, typing some more. "He stays at the prison for five days at a time, sleeping in the staff's residential area." There was a picture or two of the guard without his uniform, enjoying some kind of sporting event on television, with a can of beer in hand.

Nathan resisted the urge to tell Lucas to hurry it up.

"When he gets his days off, he leaves the colony completely and goes home to his wife and daughter. They live on Sri Lanka." Footage of the prison launch bay showed various security procedures taken and then the guard pulling away in a mini-sub not much bigger than the _Stinger_.

Nathan pointed. "So he got Zellar out?"

"Not quite," Townsend said. "Show him the Sri Lankan footage."

Lucas seemed to be planning just that. New footage popped up, this taken in the brighter light of sunlit outdoors, a marketplace of some kind. "Watch this," the teen said.

The off-duty guard shook hands with a merchant, frowned, and then looked at his palm. Lucas stopped the picture and zoomed in on the hand. A very small wound left no more than two drops of blood. The picture resumed with the guard casting an accusatory glare at the man with whom he shook hands. There appeared to be an apology and blaming it on a ring. Then the guard's footing wavered and someone helped him to a chair. The footage fast-forwarded to an ambulance arriving. Crisply-dressed paramedics in starched white uniforms stood out from the rest of the population. They checked the guard and eventually loaded him in the ambulance and drove off.

"Was he drugged?" Nathan asked.

"No telling," Lucas said. "The ambulance isn't registered and those uniforms are close, but they don't match any of the ambulance companies in the area." The screen showed several other uniform types and then a split screen showed the closest match side-by-side. Close, but definitely fake.

"Kidnapped," Nathan breathed.

Townsend spoke. "Yet he showed up at home like nothing had happened. There's no indication he told anyone he'd been drugged or kidnapped…"

"Or cloned," Lucas finished. "Here's the next time he goes back to work." Footage showed the guard climbing into a surface-docked mini-sub with a short man accompanying him.

"Who is that?"

"Good question," Townsend said. The footage changed to the prison's outer surveillance cameras, showing the guard arriving with no one else in the sub's passenger seat. "His new friend didn't check in, but look..." The NCIS agent nodded at Lucas and the footage changed to inside the prison. The guard accompanied the short man to the maximum security wing. The short man now had a visitor's badge and walked around openly, not attempting to hide.

"One guess whose cell this is," Lucas said with a smirk.

"Rubin Zellar's."

"Give the captain a prize," Townsend said.

"How long is he in there?"

"Hours." Lucas typed on the keyboard.

Nathan recognized the same room from the picture Lucas had emailed to Kristin, trying to ease her mind about Zellar being safely incarcerated. This was inside Zellar's cell.

"But look how he is careful to stay out of the picture most of the time," Townsend added.

The short man appeared to talk his way into Zellar's confidence, after which he disappeared from view. Lucas sped up the footage, which showed very little action besides Zellar looking intently at a wall, nodding, and talking every once in a while. No one would think his moving lips were odd. The man was insane and talked to himself anyway.

Abruptly, Lucas stopped the picture. The short man's hand had moved into the frame, touching Zellar's forehead. The computer genius pointed up at the screen. "What does that look like to you?"

Nathan shrugged. "A hand."

Lucas smirked. "Well, I don't know about you, but that's exactly how Dr. Smith touched me when I saved that memory package for her back in Devonport."

The captain nodded. "That explains how they transferred memories. But it still doesn't explain how they got Zellar out."

"The guard clone," Townsend said. "He took the short man back out with no one questioning him. Then look at him leaving his home the next day."

"Wait. I thought he didn't go home every night."

"The guard is free to come and go as he wishes," Townsend said. "It's a long commute and the fuel is cost-prohibitive, but he told his supervisor that his daughter was sick, so he made the trip back and forth several times that week."

Lucas continued to display footage. The mini-sub left the Sri Lankan dock with what looked like the prison guard and Rubin Zellar aboard, and arrived at Bladachuspiat with just the guard. However, the guard and Zellar, or more likely, the guard's clone and Zellar's clone, appeared in the prison halls, looking quite natural with the guard pushing a chained prisoner toward his cell.

Nathan frowned. "Okay, so I can accept he could smuggle someone in, but please tell me it's harder to get a prisoner out."

Townsend shook his head. "The guard always waited until the bed-check 'proved' all prisoners were safe in their cells before he tried to leave. Everyone felt sorry for him because of the sick child, and it's such a small sub, he shouldn't have had room for anyone except in the passenger seat, which was always empty."

"So where did he hide?"

"We wondered the same thing," Lucas said.

"I called one of my colleagues in the area," Townsend said. "He looked into some of the questions we couldn't answer with surveillance footage. The guard was found dead just a few hours ago, supposedly from natural causes. No telling if it's the clone or the real guard. The copy is missing. My friend checked his mini-sub."

The screen displayed a static photograph of the sub interior, showing the driver and passenger bench seat from the rear. A man-sized space had been carved out of the area normally used for springs and cushioning. The upholstery was intact, meaning if it was draped back where it had been, it would look normal.

"The driver _sat_ on him."

"Brilliant," Nathan conceded with a sigh.

"It's likely they breached the CDC the same way," Townsend said. "They cloned someone on the inside and used the clone to get what they wanted. No biometric scan could tell the difference and everyone who works there is scrupulously checked for security clearance. If you can't trust your own top clearance people, who can you trust?"

"No one, evidently," Nathan muttered. Just as some of the implications were sinking in, a light blinked on Lucas's computer, accompanied by a tiny buzz.

Type, type. "It's Nick," Lucas exclaimed.

The captain expected his chief computer analyst to ask him to step out or at least get out of the view of the vid-link camera, but he didn't. He routed the call to the wall. "Hey, Wolfie, whaddya got?"

"Money trails, just like you asked. Oh, hello, Captain. Sorry I didn't see you there."

"Do I need to leave?"

Lucas piped in, "The captain is the one who asked for this information, Nick."

Nick looked relieved.

"And he outranks Hitchcock," Lucas added.

"Lucas trusts you," Nathan said. "And you've helped us before. On behalf of _seaQuest_, thank you."

"Hey, no problem. So you want me to send the data or just tell you?"

"Both," Lucas said.

Nick hit a button, presumably emailing the data. He looked up and grinned. "Two main investors, but quite a few minor ones too. It's all in the file."

"Who are the main investors?" Nathan asked.

"The biggest one is George LeChein of Jamaica."

That name sounded familiar but with so many coincidences in this case, he couldn't trust his instincts any more. Lucas pasted a picture on the screen, but the Caucasian male didn't look familiar at all. "Crap," Lucas muttered. The data on his screen didn't match the wall screen. He was looking at the file Nick sent.

"What?" Nathan asked.

Lucas read the data on his monitor. "George LeChein is a native of Germany. He owned the Delta Four sub that Marilyn Stark attacked us in. The one we sank. His son was reportedly aboard."

Great. Just what he needed. Another old enemy who held a grudge. "Who else?" he asked, although now unsure he really wanted to know.

"Alan Lamm," Nick said.

Now that name he recognized. "The man who built the Mondial Resort."

The teen scowled. "The guy who tried to drown me and the world leaders in an elevator shaft the size of a conference room."

Nathan remembered the trial details. "He claimed he didn't know what the sinking room was for and built it for Dre because she promised him drilling rights or somesuch. He hired a very expensive lawyer and was cleared of conspiracy charges."  
By now, the image of the dark-skinned man filled the wall screen. "Bull pucky," Lucas growled. "He is the one who told the world leaders they had to sign that bogus treaty. He was _so_ in on it."

"So he had a short prison sentence and didn't lose any of his assets except for some legal expenses. What's his net worth?"

"Forty billion we know of," Nick said. "I didn't dig in the illegal stuff. Guys like that hire hit-men."

The captain waved it off. "That's all right, Nick. No sense endangering yourself. Thank you for what you did find."

"Any time, Captain. See ya online, Frankie."

"You got it, Wolfman."

Nick's face irised out and the UEO trident replaced it.

"Wolfman and Frankie?" Nathan asked.

"Avatars, Captain. For gaming and stuff. Frankie is short for Frankenstein."

"You building monsters down on H-deck?"

Lucas smirked. "Yeah, from all the fish parts Darwin doesn't eat."

_At least __**someone**__ still has a sense of humor_. He forced a smile. "Good work, both of you."

"What do you want me to do now?" Lucas asked. "You want me to look for surveillance footage of the CDC theft?"

"I don't see much point in finding images when we have no way of knowing if any of the people are really who we think they are, or doppelgangers sent in by the super-funded cloners."

"So… back to Dr. Wise's antique computer?" If he was upset about it, he hid it well.

"Actually, I need you on the bridge. We're coming up on the Panama Canal. If Dre wants to capture _seaQuest_, this is her big chance."

His eyes widened. "You're not going to let her, are you?"

Nathan winked at him. "The old man still has a few tricks up his sleeve, pal."


	73. Chapter 96

**Chapter 96**

"Mr. Ortiz, what other surface vessels are in our vicinity, heading toward the canal?" Nathan asked.

"Range, sir?"

"Anyone ahead of us and within ten kilometers behind. Oh, and anything you can tell by hull design as unfriendly to the UEO, eliminate."

"Aye." The sensor chief did his magic, scoping out everyone in the water. "I have eighteen vessels. Would you like visual?"

He nodded and gestured toward the main viewscreen on the bridge. Ortiz flicked a switch and projected his report. Silhouettes showed the standard side-views of the vessels, even though WSKRS could only see what was under the water. No doubt the sensor chief had listened to their engine noises to aid identification. They were arranged from closest to furthest, all in the range he'd specified.

"List according to size, largest first," Nathan ordered.

Ortiz typed a command and the screen changed, showing all the silhouettes in descending sizes.

"Eliminate that super-tanker, the three container ships, and the cruise liners." They were too large for his purposes.

Ortiz typed again and the top seven silhouettes disappeared, leaving eleven.

_Still too many choices_. "Nix the smallest seven, too." He would bet money those boats were local and though headed toward the canal, would probably veer off for coastal ports.

"Aye." The seven smallest silhouettes vanished from the screen.

Nathan studied registries of what was left and eliminated one of them on gut instinct. He didn't mention it out loud. The UEO Navy frigate was a tempting choice as well, but too obvious. He mentally set it aside to use only if one of the others didn't work. Although somewhat disgusted by what the remaining vessels stood for in terms of destruction of the natural ecosystems, it was precisely that aversion that made them ideal. "Highlight that fishing trawler."

The list disappeared and the trawler outline took half the screen while the other half catalogued her specs and other details. The _Pelicano Grande_, registered in Costa Rica.

"Would you say she's got a catch stored, Mr. Ortiz?" The WSKRS would have noted how much of her hull was submerged.

"Negative. She's riding shallow. No point in spending the fuel to transport a catch that far when there's no processing plant onboard and no refrigeration."

Nathan couldn't suppress the upturn of his lips at this information. "Very well." He turned to the communications station. "Mr. Williams, get me the captain of that trawler on a secure line."

"Aye, sir." Williams clicked on his keyboard and spoke into his headset mic. "Attention _Pee-lick-cay-noh Grand-ee_, this is _seaQuest_. Do you copy?"

The captain tried not to cringe at Williams' butchering of the boat's name. At least if Williams couldn't speak Spanish, Ortiz could. With Shan and O'Neill both gone, they'd be out of luck if the trawler crew only spoke Portuguese. The answer came in a mix of Spanish and English. Although Nathan's Spanish was terrible compared to O'Neill's or Ortiz's, he'd lived in the Yucatán long enough to be able to understand a good deal.

"Captain, do you want…" Ortiz started to offer.

"Please."

The sensor chief greeted the trawler in Spanish and asked for her captain.

"Do they have vid-link?" Nathan whispered.

A second Spanish voice joined the call. Ortiz asked about visual and the screen popped on. The fishermen on the other side were a little on the scraggly side, but not much worse than Nathan had been when he lived alone.

Ortiz waved and explained he was the translator.

Nathan stood. "Yo soy Bridger."

The fishermen's eyes widened in something approaching awe. Good. At least they respected him.

Slowly enough for Miguel to keep up, he started explaining what he wanted. "If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to share a water column with you. We'd rather not surface because satellite cameras can pick us up. We will explain to the Panamanians and we will pay your passage if you'll allow us to hide under your hull, especially through the locks."

They didn't appear to have any serious objections and when the mention of paying their passage was translated, he could see their enthusiasm rise. Heads nodded all around. "Sí, sí," the captain said. "Te ayudaremos."

"We will help you," Ortiz translated.

Nathan donned his public relations smile. "Gracias, señores." He motioned to Williams to cut the connection.

"I didn't know we could do that," Ortiz said.

"Technically, it's frowned upon. However, it wasn't that far from the Pacific side of Panama that we fought off the aliens. People around here saw that mothership with their own eyes, or they know someone who did."

Lucas blurted out, "Besides, no one says no to _you_."

"Except Congress." Nathan joined the rest of the bridge in a short chuckle. "Let's hope the Panamanians will side with us on this. Mr. Williams, get me Canal Control on another secured line."

"Aye." Williams did as ordered. At least there were no worries about language with Canal Control. English was standard, but they had translators of their own. "I have Pedro Gonzalez for you, sir."

"Put him on." Nathan turned to the screen and gave a cordial nod to the figure before him. "Señor Gonzalez."

"Captain Bridger. What can we do for _seaQuest_?" His accent was only slightly more pronounced than Ortiz's.

"For security reasons, we'd like to navigate the canal under the _Pelicano Grande_ fishing trawler. We already have their permission. You may bill both vessels to the UEO, full price."

"Do you know how tight it will be in the locks?"

"Yes I do. The difficulty is in our favor. No one will expect this."

"The UEO will accept liability for both vessels should there be a collision?"

He tried not to take offense. They probably saw far too many inebriated fishermen to take the possibility lightly, but really, the trawler was at _seaQuest_'s mercy. It wasn't like she could levitate to get out of the way of a surfacing submarine twice her size. "I take _personal_ responsibility for both vessels."

"That's good enough for me."

"Please tell as few people as possible what we're doing. We will maintain radio silence."

"I'll just have to tell the lock operators. You should be fine in open water."

The captain nodded. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"Not at all, Captain. Smooth sailing." His image winked out.

"Give me bearing to the _Pelicano Grande_," Nathan ordered.

"Four kilometers at twelve degrees," Ortiz said.

"All right, slow and easy, we slip under him. Keep at least thirty meters between our hulls at all times, but take us as deep as we can go without hitting bottom."

Blank looks met his orders. He really hated it when all his senior officers were missing. Ford could have figured out the particulars without him spelling it out. However, he could have withheld anyone Brody asked for. He chided himself for being so spoiled by good people.

"Come up to depth of 150 meters, twelve degrees right rudder, speed 20 knots. Mr. Ortiz, keep an eye on the trawler's course and speed, and let me know if there's any change."

The helm and dive officers had no trouble relaying his more specific orders. Ortiz acknowledged at the same time.

The trip was tedious, since they couldn't go any faster than the boat they were hiding under and everyone had to wait their turn at the locks. They navigated the Atlantic locks up to Gatun Lake without a hitch. Nathan's plan seemed to be working, but there was still quite a way to go. None of the turns were particularly difficult. Even Brody could have led them through at this snail's pace. But no one was present to assume the responsibility, so Nathan had to stay on top of it. He couldn't rest until they were completely out.

The trawler sped up a little over the lake until they came up on Bas Obispo Reach. When they finally approached the Pacific locks, Kendall arrived on the bridge. He wasn't a bridge officer, like Hitchcock. He almost always preferred to stay in engineering. However, it was possible he felt threatened by Hitchcock's temporary fill-in and was trying to emulate his mentor.

"Welcome home, Chief," Nathan said.

The man looked bewildered. It took him a little longer than it should have for him to reply, "Thank you, sir. It's good to be back."

"How was the conference?"

The engineer didn't take his eyes off the navigation and helm readouts and he didn't respond.

"Chief? Are you all right?"

When Kendall turned around, his face was pale and his eyes darted around in confusion. His mouth moved, but at first, no sound came out. Then his voice emerged in a raspy whisper, "Captain, you've got to put me in the brig."

"What? Why?"

Kendall's eyes rolled back in his head, his knees buckled, and he collapsed. Williams sprang out of his seat to check on him. Nathan hit the intercom. "Medbay: Medical emergency on the bridge. Man down." He heard Dr. Smith respond she was on her way even as he bolted out of his chair to check on his engineer personally.

Williams pressed a finger to Kendall's neck. He nodded to indicate he found a pulse. Nathan could see his chest rising. He wasn't in cardiac arrest, but it was still disturbing to have him pass out like that.

Dr. Smith rushed in, medikit in hand. "What happened?"

"He fainted," Williams said.

Nathan gave Williams a silent dismissal with a nod in the direction of his station. Williams heeded it and gave Smith room to work. She knelt at Kendall's side and plugged a stethoscope into her ears.

Nathan didn't interrupt her examination until she removed the plugs from her ears and let the scope hang at her neck. In a soft voice directed only to her, he said, "He seemed disoriented and confused just before he passed out. I don't even know why he came up here. Besides when he was in command during the Black Sea crisis, I don't think I've seen him on the bridge more than three times total since he's been assigned to _seaQuest_."

"Was he on the first tour?"

At first, he thought Wendy asked that to determine the duration of Kendall's bridge shyness, but then he remembered the virus. "Yes, he's been vaccinated. He was Hitchcock's apprentice on the first tour."

She managed a ghost of a smile. "Good." She waved some smelling salts under his nose.

Kendall jerked awake and tried to sit up. Nathan and Wendy both held him back.

"Just lie still," Dr. Smith said soothingly.

His eyes darted around again, finally fixating on Smith. "Help me, Doctor."

"That's what I'm here for," she assured him.

He shook his head vigorously. "No, you don't understand. There's something wrong in my head. I'm endangering _seaQuest_."

"Is that why you asked me to arrest you?" Nathan whispered.

He nodded, but he never took his eyes off Wendy. "Help me," he begged. His hand flailed around until it caught hers and latched on, his knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip.

Wendy gasped and wavered slightly, but Kendall's grip kept her from falling over.

Nathan let go of Kendall's shoulder to steady the doctor. "Wendy?"

She had a faraway look in her eyes for a second and then she shuddered and blinked into more normal, but stunned, awareness. "Captain, this is a clone."

_Damn_. Nathan had been all worried about the pilot but he hadn't given a second thought to his own chief engineer. Kendall hadn't seemed 'important' enough for anyone to clone him, but after Lucas had shown him how that poor prison guard had been used and killed, he realized how wrong he'd been. There was no time for self-recrimination. "How can you tell?"

Wendy smirked. "I know a little about memory packages, remember? I can't explain it but I know these memories aren't his."

"He resisted," the Kendall-clone said, but it looked like a struggle to speak.

"What did you mean about endangering _seaQuest_?" Nathan asked.

"I—I don't know. When I first walked on the bridge, I had an overwhelming urge to override ballast control." He looked back at Wendy, his hand still in hers. "Probe me. You're the only one who can figure this out."

"Sounds like permission to me," Nathan said.

"Yes, but he's not the _real_ Kendall," Wendy argued. "I'd be seeing all _his_ memories without his permission."

The clone disregarded her qualms. "I think he's in danger—the real Kendall, I mean. It's like knowing you know something, right at the tip of your mind, but you just can't remember. If it's in my head, you can get it out and help him."

Nathan couldn't help feeling sorry for the clone. He looked so much like Kendall it was hard not to transfer all the admiration and deep gratitude he felt toward the real Kendall, but even when he was keeping the identity firmly in mind, he felt pity. It wasn't the clone's fault someone else stole the DNA to put him together for their own twisted purposes or that the real Kendall had been kidnapped.

"Please," he pleaded with the doctor. "They're using me and I don't know how to stop them."

Nathan nodded to her encouragingly. If the real Kendall was still alive, this would help him too.

"Okay," Wendy said. "Try to relax." Her eyes closed and so did the clone's. Wendy placed her right hand on top of the one that already held her left. She breathed deeply.

After a couple of minutes, Nathan wondered how long this would take. Maybe he should have sent them to Medbay. This was probably not the best time to have a distraction on the bridge, without his senior officers here to make sure they didn't plow right into the lock's closed end. He stood and checked their status. Someone had made a course change—slight, but necessary. He could also tell who had done it.

"Mr. Piccolo, who gave you a course correction?"

Shan's relief helm officer looked shocked, like he didn't realize any of his four helm operators had done anything outside of relayed orders.

The petty officer cringed but he didn't hesitate to answer. "No one. I just listened to Ortiz sayin' what the other boat was doin'. I thought you was busy with the doc and it looked like we were gonna hit that wall."

"So you made corrections on your own?"

He gulped like he knew he was in trouble, but he held his head high. "Yes sir."

Nathan grinned. "Good work. Can you keep us from hitting anything if I confer with Dr. Smith again?"

Piccolo returned the grin. "You bet, Cap."

"Then do it."

"Aye, aye."

He'd have to remember to speak to Shan about training Piccolo to be the relief helm officer. Shan had done the job before he became an ensign. No reason Piccolo couldn't do it, especially with the initiative he'd just shown. There probably wouldn't have been any damage to _seaQuest _as slow as they were going, but Nathan would have been heavily embarrassed had they so much as sideswiped the walls after giving his personal guarantee to Canal Control. It wouldn't have helped their stealth either if collision alarms went off everywhere.

Nathan returned to his the command chair to keep a better eye on things. No reason to force more responsibility on someone who hadn't been trained for the job yet. Just as he got settled, Dr. Smith and the clone roused from their telepathic conference.

"Gen-U-Flect tried to erase all of Kendall's memories of being abducted before the transfer, but the clone is right, Kendall put up a fight and that's why their post-hypnotic suggestions failed. Kendall thwarted them with the power of will."

"Is he alive?"

She canted her head toward the clone. "He doesn't know. He didn't even know he was a clone until I revealed it. He woke up with Kendall's memories and the doctors told him he'd had a minor accident."

"Does he remember anything about the abduction?"

"It happened in Denver when he was alone. Everything else is a blank."

"What do you suggest we do with him?"

"Captain, this man is a thinking, feeling human. Acting against extremely strong hypnosis to save _seaQuest_ is what made him pass out. He's done nothing wrong."

"Doctor, _he's_ the one who suggested I throw him in the brig!"

"I removed the hypnotic imperatives. He's not going to do anything Kendall wouldn't do. How about I keep him in Medbay for observation?"

"Good idea." He looked at the clone. "Please remove the uniform. While I accept your sentience and the fact you have all of Kendall's knowledge and memories, you are not my chief engineer."

"Aye, sir. I mean, sorry, sir. You're right. I feel like him, but I know I'm not."

Nathan glanced back at Wendy. "Find him some scrubs or guest attire."

She nodded.

The doctor and her patient left the bridge.

He'd been watching the helm activity as he spoke to Wendy and the clone, but his crew had eased _seaQuest_ into the final lock and slowed to a perfect halt before he could order it. One more step down and they would be out. He could hardly wait.

Ortiz sent a WSKR almost to the surface, close enough to watch the water level against the calibrated markings. The line moved far too slowly and Nathan finally got up and took a walk around the bridge to quiet his nerves. By this time, everyone had started chatting to pass the time, but casual conversation tended to cool or end abruptly when he came physically close. He smiled a lot and nodded amiably to show he didn't mind. There was nothing anyone could do to speed the process and nothing that needed to be done while they sat in this claustrophobic rat trap. He paid a lot of back pats and encouraging remarks, boosting his own mood as much as those he spoke with.

Lucas had been awfully quiet, so he made a point of checking on him. "Looks like I dragged you in here for nothing, Mr. Wolenczak. You could have been playing with the antique computer all this time."

Lucas gave him one of his sassy teen smirks. "Who says I wasn't?"

Nathan felt his eyebrow arch despite his conscious attempt to look uninterested.

The teen held up a nickel-sized data disk and grinned. "I figured out how to transfer the memory from the floppies and the hard drive. I still have to open each file manually, but I don't have to use that old dinosaur anymore. I've been chipping away at it here and there."

The little sneak. No wonder he hadn't seemed upset at the prospect of working on it. Still, the captain couldn't help but be impressed. "I think you earned your cookie for the day."

Lucas rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. "I also wouldn't say my presence here was a total loss. I overheard you talking to Dr. Smith and I followed some hunches on the Denver clue. I'm gonna need some help from Townsend, but we might be able to find Chief Kendall if we work together."

Nathan could have kicked himself for not delegating Lucas to work on it sooner. He clapped the kid on the back. "Go for it."

Ortiz gave him that _See, it pays to ask_ look before they bumped knuckles and Lucas jogged out.

The captain watched him for a second and then turned back to his sensor chief. Although rarely gloomy, it would be understandable if Miguel felt a bit overlooked. He'd missed Juno to provide an alibi for _seaQuest_ and now he'd been inched out of New Zealand by Dagwood. Still, he was the most competent crewman on the bridge right now and Nathan's job would have been ten times harder without him. As easy as he made it look, Nathan knew it really wasn't that simple, especially when there was no room to let the WSKRS run free.

"How is everyone holding up?" Nathan gestured to the WSKRS panels. There was a reason they all had names. Miguel treated them like his toys or pets.

Miguel nodded. "Oh, everyone's fine. Although…" He flicked a switch to Junior's display of the water level. It had hit the red line. The doors should be opening any second. They waited, along with just about everyone else. The bridge quieted with anticipation and slowly filled with murmurs when the opening delayed longer and longer.

Ortiz startled and pulled his headset away from his ears.

"What is it?"

"_Pelicano Grande_ is trying to talk to us."

"We told them we were maintaining radio silence until we got out." But the second it left his lips, he realized something. _Ortiz_ had been the one to hear them, not Williams. "How did they call?"

Ortiz chuckled. "They have a sonar fishfinder. Somebody rigged it like a hydrophone. Pretty smart, actually."

"Well, what are they saying?"

"Canal Control isn't answering their hails. They want to know if we know why the lock hasn't opened."

"Break out our hydrophone and tell them we don't know either and thank them for not using the radio."

"Aye, sir." He flipped switches and then carried out his orders, speaking Spanish.

Nathan made his way back to his own chair while Ortiz was busy. "Options, people," he invited.

"Maybe it's just stuck," one of the female helm operators said.

"If it was stuck, they would have told _Pelicano Grande_ right off," Ortiz said.

There was a pregnant pause. "We have lasers and torpedoes," the weapons officer said quietly.

Nathan tried to make light with his response. "Great, so while Andrea Dre is bucking for World Dictator and Rubin Zellar is unleashing a plague to annihilate all of New Zealand, I destroy the most important isthmus crossing on the planet."

No one dared another suggestion after that.

"Are we just going to sit here and wait?" a young seaman asked.

"_We_ are, but Petty Officer Piccolo and Miss Wise are _not_."

Tony Piccolo swiveled out of his helm seat. "You called me, sir?"

"You up for a little swim?"

"Heck yeah. I mean, yes sir!"


	74. Chapter 97

**Chapter 97**

Kristin was jarred awake from her uneasy sleep when the jet copter landed in Hawaii. A look out the window revealed Ben Krieg…_in uniform?_ Maybe she was dreaming or maybe the fatigue was making her hallucinate.

Once the rotors slowed, Ford opened the door.

Krieg saluted. "Commander."

"Ben, what are you doing in uniform?" Ford didn't even return the salute.

Katie left the pilot's seat and joined Jonathan in staring in disbelief.

Ben remained stiff in his stance. "Admiral Noyce said no civilians would be allowed into New Zealand except doctors and nurses. I didn't have time to go to medical school."

"You re-enlisted?" Katie blurted out incredulously.

Ben turned his head very slightly in Katie's direction but he remained professional and never broke his salute. "Yes, ma'am. Temporarily." He returned his gaze to Ford. "Admiral Noyce assigned me to your command until we return to U.S. soil." Meaning, Ben was no longer someone he had to protect, at least not any more than he had to protect Brody or O'Neill. When Ford didn't comment immediately, Ben used his free hand to remove an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Ford.

Ford looked over the papers then back at Ben. "Looks like everything's in order, Lieutenant. Welcome to the team." He returned the salute and then offered his hand and the two men shook.

Katie leaned into Jonathan. "Commander, if you don't mind, might I have a word in private with the lieutenant?"

Ben looked like he was trying not to cringe, but he kept his mouth shut. Kristin couldn't tell whether he'd been badgered into re-activation or not, but he sure was taking it seriously.

Ford shrugged and swept his hand indifferently, returning his attention to the papers he'd been handed. It was hard to tell much from his stony face, but he looked rather pleased with the development.

Katie grabbed Ben by the arm, dragged him around to the other side of the jet copter and then practically screamed, "What are you _doing_?"

Kristin tried to hide her chuckle, but failed.

Ben's answer was much quieter. "Hey, _you_ called _me_, Katie. I thought you _wanted_ me to come."

"I didn't mean to force you back into the navy!"

"You didn't. I could have stayed here. I recruited four thousand Australian doctors and nurses and I coaxed Quantas Airlines into halting all their commercial flights in order to fly them to New Zealand before they shut down the airports. I got us ten thousand hypospray units, half in Hong Kong, and half in South Africa, brand new, still in the b—"

"Ten _thousand_? You found ten thousand hypospray guns?"

"Only two manufacturers in the world. Piece of cake. Airlifted out an hour ago. Probably get there before you do. So can you stand the sight of me in uniform or do I go tell Noyce I chickened out?"

However Katie answered, it didn't make any sound. After almost a minute, she found her voice again, although a bit breathless. "Where's Henderson?"

"_Splendor_'s berth. She's ready to go as soon as Shan gets there."

"You'd better tell him how to find it then."

"Aye, Commander."

The two of them reappeared from the other side of the jet copter. Ben took Shan aside, presumably to explain how to get to _Splendor_. Katie looked about as happy as Kristin had ever seen her.

Shan took his leave while everyone else walked around the helipad, taking advantage of the opportunity to stretch their legs while the jet copter was being re-fueled.

"Commander?" Tim called in the direction of Ford. "I've got a message from Dr. Smith."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant." Everyone gathered around loosely, although Kristin let all the military get closer. Wendy wouldn't have told Tim the message was for Ford if it was medical.

"Chief Kendall was kidnapped. That was a clone the pilot brought to _seaQuest_. Dr. Smith can tell a clone from the original if she can scan them."

"Good. What about Kendall?"

"They think it happened in Denver. Lucas and the NCIS agent are looking for him."

He nodded, his face a mask of stoicism again. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do we have an ETA on _seaQuest_?"

Tim concentrated a few seconds and then shook his head. "Negative. She says they're having a little difficulty in the Panama Canal, but nothing we should worry about."

"What kind of difficulty?" Kristin pressed.

"Wendy either doesn't know or she can't say. And she says don't try to call because they're trying to maintain radio silence."

Kristin didn't like this. She didn't like the vague platitude and she didn't like not being able to call her husband and demand a better explanation. But the fact Wendy was alive and feeling secure enough to have a telepathic chat with them meant whatever 'difficulty' she was talking about wasn't too dire…yet. If Kristin didn't have the fate of five million Kiwis weighing her down, she might have let it bother her more, but as it was, she had to take Wendy's advice not to worry. She put on her bedside manner face. "Tim, please ask Wendy to let us know as soon as they're out of the Canal, hmm?"

Tim nodded amiably and faded out again. When he finished, he walked to Kristin and kept his voice low. "Mary says she's keeping her senses open to Wendy. She's more worried than she pretends, but she's not panicked."

"Thank you," Kristin whispered. But there was no time for hand-wringing or worry. The re-fueling would be done soon. She raised her voice and called, "Katie, I think it's time we found the ladies' room."

The lieutenant commander went in with her, but there was a lieutenant and a GELF stationed outside the restroom window and another lieutenant at the door. Levin was similarly guarded.

Shan called Ford's PAL from _Splendor_ and informed them he and Lonnie were under way.

Some ground crewman offered to get them some food.

"No way," O'Neill said vehemently.

Everyone turned to stare at the normally-polite Tim.

Tim looked embarrassed, but he didn't back down. "I am never eating military-supplied food on an aircraft ever again. We don't know who made it."

Brody clapped Tim on the back. "Good thinking."

Since no one else was doing it, Kristin turned to the seaman who'd probably only meant to be helpful. "Thank you anyway, but we're all a little paranoid."

He shrugged and walked back toward the hangar.

Ben pulled out his vid-cell and grinned. "I can order pizza."

Everyone laughed but Levin and Dagwood.

"No time," Katie said, looking at her watch. "But don't you know where all the lunch trucks are on base?"

Ben nodded. "Sure, I can do that."

"Wait, Lieutenant," Ford said. "No one goes anywhere alone. That's how we lost Kendall. Take someone with you."

"I'll go," Tim volunteered. At least that would ensure Ben got something vegetarian. The two took off at a jog.

Even though she knew she'd soon be tired of sitting, Kristin was too tired to keep walking, so she went back inside the jet copter. The rest of the men and Katie filtered in behind her. In another fifteen minutes, Ben and Tim returned with pita sandwiches, rolled chicken tacos, and various other American oddities Kristin couldn't identify. However, everyone ate and no one complained, so whatever it was couldn't have been too bad. The ground crew informed Katie they were done refueling, but Ford insisted she take time to finish eating before takeoff.

Kristin finally slept once they were moving. It still wasn't terribly comfortable but she was weary from travel and mentally exhausted from worrying about how many people would die and what kind of upheaval would occur when the disease took hold.

She wasn't sure if she felt the landing or just the change in sound once the rotors stopped, but she opened her eyes to find it dark. "Where are we?"

"Auckland," Katie said. "Their biggest hospital. We don't even have to drive to get there. They had a pad on the roof for us." She shooed everyone off and into the hospital.

"Katie, I hope you're going to get some sleep now," Kristin said once they were inside and didn't have wind and rotors to compete with.

Katie opened her mouth to object, but Ford stopped her with a halting hand. "I agree with Dr. Westphalen," he said. "We all slept while you were flying. You take eight hours and sleep." Kristin could see in his eyes he intended that as an order. She must have seen it too. Either that, or she saw the wisdom in sleeping. She backed down and nodded.

"You know, that's good advice for all of us," Kristin said. "We can't help these people when we're drained ourselves. That includes being mine and Levin's bodyguards."

"Right," Ford said. "Let's make shift plans now. Anyone not sleep on the jet copter?"

Tim raised his hand sheepishly. Not too surprising after his last Pacific flight.

"Perfect. You and Hitchcock will take the next eight hours and sleep."

"The hospital should have a room with two beds," Levin said. "I'll go talk to someone right now."

Brody indicated he would stay with Levin.

"Dagwood, are you tired?" Ford asked.

"No, Commander Ford. I just woke up."

"Good. You will guard the door while Hitchcock and O'Neill sleep. No one is to disturb them without one of us saying it's all right." He gestured around to the _seaQuest_ crew.

The GELF shook his head slowly and deliberately. "I don't let anybody bug them if I don't know them."

"You can sit in a chair if you want," Hitchcock offered.

He gave Katie a lopsided smile. "Thank you, Commander Hitchcock, ma'am."

Kristin just then remembered the tablet computer Wendy had sent. She'd been teaching Dagwood to read, but he hadn't made much progress. The tablet had about forty books about sea animals and the ocean, all at his reading level. She pulled it from her satchel and offered it to the GELF. Dagwood shook his head in refusal, so Kristin leaned in to whisper, "Dr. Smith sent some books you can read. You don't have to. This is just if you get bored."

His eyes lit up. "Dr. Smith sent them?"

"She picked them out just for you. Books about dolphins and whales and coral reefs."

"And sharks?"

Kristin couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, I believe there are a few about sharks."

He drew the tablet close to his chest, almost like a hug.

"But don't forget to guard the door," Ford said. It was a very mild reminder.

He nodded with a serious look. "I won't, Commander Ford. I will make sure no one bothers the lady commander or Tim while they sleep."

"Good. We're counting on you." He patted Dagwood on the back and then turned to Kristin. "When you and Levin are ready to sleep, Brody and I will stand guard. Krieg can stand watch for us while Hitchcock and O'Neill stay with you." Everyone nodded to his orders.

"Let's hope there's time to sleep," Kristin said gravely.

"Your own words, Doctor," Ford warned.

Kristin had about twenty snide comments just bursting to get out. Five million people. An entire country. All about to contract a deadly virus which made them insane and violent right before it killed them. Seriously, could _Ford_ sleep with that kind of impending doom? She decided Mr. Stoneface probably could, so she held her tongue through great effort.

"The Australians will be here soon to help," Ben said, ever the optimist.

"Great. Thousands of doctors and thousands of hypospray guns" she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, "but not enough vaccine."

"I believe I have a plan that may help with that," a French accented voice said from behind Ben.

Kristin recognized that voice. "Dr. Peché?"

He stepped into view. No longer the washed-up alcoholic who'd almost committed suicide out of guilt and shame, he had an air of strength and confidence about him now that reminded her of Nathan. He smiled warmly and held out his hand. "Dr. Westphalen, I'm so pleased to see you."

She took his hand. "I thought they were sending you to Christchurch?"

"They are, but this is the central staging area. The hypospray guns were shipped here and the Australians will land here first."

"Please don't tell me you intend to use placebo."

He scoffed. "What good would that do? No, I have a much better idea. You brought enough for 500,000 doses, yes?"

Kristin nodded.

"I have enough for two and a half million."

Kristin felt her jaw drop. "How did you make that much so fast?"

He waved off her doubt. "I am no longer the fool I was when first we met, Doctor. Like you, I did not trust the _say-day-say _or the_ op-em-es _when they said it would be safe to keep that horrible virus. I have been working on stockpiling vaccine for nearly three years."

"But we're still two million doses short," Kristin said.

"Ah, _non_," he said with a smile. "You assume we must use the same dose to inoculate that we use to treat victims and my research suggests that is not true."

"Research?" She quirked her brow dangerously.

A pang of hurt touched his face. "No one regrets the development of this virus more than I. My research has been only and ever on the _cure_ since I left you."

"So what do you propose?"

"I believe we can inoculate the entire population with half the dosage you recommended in your thesis. We would still have half a million doses left to use as… boosters… for any that become exposed before they reach full immunity."

Stunned, Kristin stopped in her tracks. This could really work if they could get people vaccinated fast enough. "That's brilliant. You may have just saved a country, Doctor."

Peché nodded gracefully. He wouldn't take credit, not after the role he'd played in developing the virus to begin with.

"This isn't your fault," Kristin reminded him. "You and I _both_ told these people to destroy that canister. It's not your fault they didn't listen and not your fault they didn't guard it better."

"No, but it would not exist at all were it not for me and my comrades from _Liberté_."

She smiled warmly at him. "I'm just glad you were smarter than they were. So what are we waiting for? We've got work to do."


	75. Chapter 98

**Chapter 98**

Lucas and Townsend were still working on finding the kidnapped Kendall. They found video of him checking out of his hotel, which didn't help a lot except to show what he was wearing that day, so it would be easier to find him on other footage.

A knock sounded and the ward room hatch opened. Captain Bridger stood in the entry. "How's it going?"

The captain didn't have a habit of hovering and they hadn't been at this long enough to really have gotten anything, so Lucas assumed it was just conversational. "Slow," Lucas replied.

"You'll find something." It was that definite tone Lucas loved so much. It wasn't some sappy, 'keep plugging' encouragement, it was his absolute conviction not just that Lucas _could_ find something on occasion, but that he definitely _would_ find something in the present that would help Kendall.

"We're stuck in the last lock and I need to brief Piccolo and Miss Wise on getting us out. Mind if we use the room for a few minutes?"

Lucas started to stand. "No problem."

The captain waved a staying gesture. "You don't have to leave. In fact, can you get me any visuals of Canal Control?"

Lucas grinned and switched gears, leaving Kendall's hotel check-out to dive into the new task. He saw Tony follow the captain in and the two of them take seats. Even with a brand new computer and satellite boosters, Lucas couldn't always get what he wanted as fast as he'd like and had to wait for video feeds to load. His mind wandered while he waited…_Tony and Mika?_

"You're sending a civilian on a mission?" he blurted out. Belatedly, he realized he probably shouldn't have asked.

"I'm going to ask a civilian if she would help us, yes," the captain said smoothly.

The video of Canal Control popped up on his monitor and Lucas routed it to the large screen. Three bodies lay motionless on the floor while a wall full of gauges, computerized charts, and colored lights flashed around them.

"Unless Mr. Piccolo thinks he can figure this out on his own…?" the captain's statement to Lucas became a question to Tony.

Lucas glanced at his roomie's face. The enthusiasm over being chosen for a mission was fading as he stared at the screen. Although Tony had made huge strides in his academic studies, it was very unlikely his GED test-preparation included how to operate sophisticated machinery like this. Lucas couldn't even figure it out from here so he could walk him through it.

"I don't know, Cap," Tony said uneasily. "It don't look like anything we got on _seaQuest_."

"It's not. And for the record, I didn't choose you for this because I thought you could figure it out on your own."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's 'cause I got gills."

The captain glanced at Tony, but didn't let his eyes linger on him. "Yes, partly. SCUBA gear would be a little less covert." He swept his hand toward the screen. "I don't know if those people are dead or just stunned and whether whoever did it may be expecting us to send up divers, but if they are, I'd just as soon not let them see our bubbles coming, so they could shoot us before we even breach the surface."

It hit Lucas how dangerous this was. Tony could be walking into a trap. In fact, Lucas was 99% sure if _he_ asked to be allowed to go, Captain Bridger would never allow it. But that begged the question of why he was allowing the naïve Mika to tag along.

"Your mission is not to get _seaQuest_ out of the lock," the captain said, now looking Tony straight in the eyes. "Your mission is to make sure it's safe for Miss Wise to go in there. You surface first and you take out any obstacles. You get her safely to the controls and help if she asks for it, but otherwise, your duty stops at her safety."

Tony nodded, the gravity of the situation reflected in his eyes. "Yes, sir."

Lucas felt a bit of chill course his back and neck. Mika's face peered in through the hatch's window and she knocked.

"Come," the captain called.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"Yes. _SeaQuest_ is stuck and I was wondering if you'd be willing to try to open the lock for us. Petty Officer Piccolo would be your escort."

Lucas watched her eyes flit from the captain to Tony and then to the wall screen. He could tell precisely when she saw the bodies on the control room floor. "Are they dead?" she asked.

"We don't know yet. Mr. Piccolo will be armed with non-lethal weapons, and I'm willing to let you take a stun gun too, but I'm not going to lie. If they'll unleash a virus to kill five million people, they probably wouldn't care about a few more."

_Or a whole submarine full_, Lucas thought darkly.

Mika took a deep breath and nodded resolutely. "I want to help."

"Thank you." He turned his gaze back to Lucas. "I don't suppose you can round up a how-to manual on one of the most advanced pieces of modern engineering?"

"I'll give it a shot."

"Good, but they're not going to wait. The faster we get there, the more likely it will be a surprise. Piccolo, get an underwater headset on PAL frequency for communication. We'll watch you on their security cams."

"Aye, Cap."

Tony and Mika left the ward room, no doubt headed for sea deck. Lucas wished he was Commander Ford. Ford could have asked the captain how he felt about this and gotten a straight answer. Not that Lucas ever believed the captain would purposely send anyone on a mission he didn't think they could handle, just whether he felt completely confident in Tony or just extremely hopeful.

"Captain, may I make an outside call?" Townsend asked. "I may be able to get someone who can help us."

"As long as it's not radio. We're trying to pretend we're not here," he said with a humorous lilt.

Lucas couldn't help his smirk or his smart-aleck tone. "I think they already found us."

Captain Bridger flashed that tolerant look on his face when he winked. "Yes, but we don't want them to know we're a step ahead of them. We'll start with asking Canal Control what the hold up is and showing how patient we are when they don't answer."

"While we send in the commandoes."

"Exactly."

"It's not radio, Captain." Townsend held up his private vid-cell. "Satellite phone. We can't be too deep if we're in a lock."

"We're only down about forty meters. What's your range?"

Townsend shrugged. "No idea. I just know it didn't work when we were deep in the Atlantic."

"Go ahead and try. If we get out of here, we're heading for deep Pacific, so this is your only shot until we reach New Zealand."

Townsend punched in numbers, waited, and then greeted someone—sounded like a superior. Lucas didn't listen in for long. He had digging of his own to do and put his attention toward that instead.

The Internex had thousands of articles about the Panama Canal and plenty of pictures, but everything was always about the arduous construction way back in the 1800s _(Come to Panama and bring your shovel! The pay is fantastic if you don't get malaria and die because science and medicine stink right now)_ or the touristy travelogue stuff posted on blogs by vacationers who made the crossing into an 'experience' when all they did was sit on a ship and watch the scenery change. The locks themselves were shown in many different stages of construction, but nowhere could he find anything on how to operate the controls.

"Piccolo to Captain," came Tony's voice over the PAL.

"Bridger."

"We're ready."

"You be careful. Both of you."

"Aye, sir. Switching to aqua headset now. Piccolo out."

Lucas punched up the view from outside the tricuspid sea doors. They probably wouldn't use Launch Bay, but the aquatube system Darwin used instead. Still, they'd pass the camera. Sure enough, Tony swam out in his sleeveless wetsuit, followed by Mika in…well, in that skin-tight white bodysuit she always swam in. Darwin followed them.

"Hey, is that safe?" Lucas asked with alarm.

The captain shrugged. "Safe or not, it's a little late to stop him." He rested a hand on Lucas's shoulder. "He'll be fine, kiddo."

"Yeah, well, I'm worried about Tony and Mika too," Lucas said, although mostly to try to convince himself he really was more worried about his roommate than his dolphin friend. Tony at least understood what was going on. All Darwin would know was that _seaQuest_ was stuck in a big bathtub with a fishing boat floating on top.

Townsend alternated getting put on hold and then re-explaining the situation every few minutes, evidently getting the royal runaround trying to find anyone who knew something helpful. Lucas felt for him. It didn't appear knowing how to open a canal lock was very common knowledge.

Lucas hacked into the canal's security cams until he found one showing the edge of the lock. No doubt this one was used to watch those cargo container ships, to keep them from getting too close. The _Pelicano Grande_ was not 'grande' enough to appear unless she drifted far from center.

Tony's eyes broke the surface, but he did a thorough check before he turned and motioned to Mika. She came up behind him.

"You guys see us?" Tony whispered over his headset, but his voice transmitted through the PAL.

The captain nodded to Lucas to answer.

"Yeah, we see you, Tony. Looks clear from here."

"Okay, we're goin' in." He signaled Mika to stay down and then hoisted himself out of the water and drew his weapon from the back waistband in his wetsuit. Crouching, Tony swept the area with gun pointed and then grabbed Mika's hand and pulled her out of the water.

Together, they advanced toward the building. Lucas switched cameras again, checking out where they were headed before they got there. Every view showed nothing but deserted halls and empty rooms. No bodies on the floors, just no one anywhere. "Tony, it looks clear, but they may have messed with the camera feeds." He wanted to add another warning to be careful, but he didn't want to sound over-protective. It may have been debatable when Tony came aboard whether he was an adult, but there was no question now. The captain could have sent someone else in SCUBA gear and it wouldn't have made that much difference.

While Lucas was glued to the monitor, watching Tony and Mika, Captain Bridger got the communications guy to patch him into radio so he could play 'Mr. Patience' with Canal Control. Then he told Miguel to call the _Pelicano Grande_ on an open channel and pretend _seaQuest_ had snuck in under them without their knowledge or permission. _Yeah right_. Like a fishing boat with sonar fish locators could somehow miss a ginourmous submarine right under their hull! Lucas recognized this was all an act put on for unseen spectators who were hopefully morons.

Darwin swam back in through the still-open doors. Lucas had left the moon pool camera feed running on one of the smaller monitors and he distinctly heard the vocorder voice mutter 'bad water.' Captain Bridger must have seen it, because he shook a finger at Darwin's image. "We've been in a fresh water lake, my friend. Stay inside until we get to the Pacific." It didn't matter he wasn't heard. Darwin wasn't going to swim in bad water if he had a choice.

Meanwhile, Tony and Mika found the lock control room with the bodies. Tony knelt and checked for a pulse on each one. He looked up at the camera and shook his head. Mika stared in horror until Tony coaxed her to the control wall. She still looked disturbed, but she did try to focus on the task. Tony backed off and let her study the panels.

Finally, she turned to Tony and spoke, but if there were mics on the security cams, it didn't pick up her words. Tony adjusted his underwater headset so his mic was in front of his lips again. "Luke, you got us any instructions?"

Lucas felt his stomach knot up. He shook his head helplessly at the captain, who pulled the PAL from his belt to answer, "That's a negative, Mr. Piccolo. Just tell her to do her best. It's not like it can get any worse."

Baloney it couldn't! What if she hit the valve that emptied all the water out and they ended up stranded and dry, with a wrecked fishing boat on top of them! Without water, _seaQuest_ had no power. That meant no life support. They'd have to abandon ship. At least as they were now, they were just stuck in one place until someone opened the darned door.

Mika reached out and flipped a switch. Red lights flashed and the previously silent video feed suddenly erupted with klaxon alarms, making Lucas jump.

Someone else entered the room—holding a weapon.

"Tony, watch your back!" Lucas yelled.

The petty officer turned just in time to stun the new arrival. Another man entered directly behind the first, firing before he was even fully inside the room. Tony shielded Mika, fired, and then pushed her to run. Between the flashing lights and the jerky quality of the video, it was hard to see what was happening. Lucas typed madly, trying to get a better view.

"Get out of there," Captain Bridger ordered. How in the world was he so calm?

Tony's voice was ragged and panting. "Love to, but I'm cut off." Bang. Crash.

Finally, Lucas found the right camera. They were no longer in the control room, but what looked like a hall. Laser blasts flashed and projectiles ricocheted off the walls. Mika looked like she overcame her reluctance to use the weapon she'd been given and was finally helping shoot back. Tony maneuvered them around to an intersection. "Luke? Is there another way out?"

Lucas studied what he could see of the smoky passages. "Yeah, ten meters behind you, take the door to the left. It leads outside."

"Copy that."

Unfortunately, his attention to the instructions had detracted from his attention to Mika, who, for reasons only she would know, left the safety of Tony's cover and stood to get a better shot at their attackers.

"No!" Tony screamed. He lunged in front of her just as weapon discharge sounded.

"Tony?" Lucas called.

No answer.

"Tony, you all right? Come in, Tony!"

Mika dragged Tony's body toward where they had both been crouched before she stood. She removed his headset and spoke into it. "Tony's hurt. It's my fault."

"Can you get out of there?" the captain asked urgently.

Tony leaned in to where Mika held the mic and rasped, "We can make it." He raised his weapon before he finished speaking and fired. This shot hit its mark and a figure in dark clothing collapsed.

The final attacker fled.

"You're clear, guys, get out now!" Lucas practically yelled.

"Slave driver," Tony muttered. He groaned as he pulled up from the floor, but with Mika's help, he stood, holding his side. Bright red stained the blue stripe of his wetsuit and it wasn't just because of the red lights.

The captain hit the intercom button. "Medbay, we need a team to the moon pool. Piccolo's been injured by an unknown weapon."

"On my way," Dr. Smith's voice replied.

"Captain?" Lucas had almost forgotten Townsend was in the room. He'd been talking on and off, but Lucas had stopped paying attention a long time ago.

"I'm a little busy right now," Captain Bridger said. Not annoyed, just stating fact.

Townsend cleared his throat. "I've got SECNAV for you, sir. He says he can help us."

"The Secretary of the Navy?" The captain sighed and canted his head toward the vid-screen. "Put him on."

Townsend shook his head and offered the satellite phone he held in his hand. "He says your ears and eyes only."

Captain Bridger accepted the phone. "Yes, sir. We sent a team in to try to unlock it ourselves, but we were fired upon. I've got a man injured and—" He stopped abruptly and listened. Then his voice got all formal. "Bridger, Nathan Hale. Captain. Service number 834729. Codename…" He turned away from the table and shielded his voice so all Lucas heard was a muffled jumble. He was silent another few seconds, listening. "You've gotta be kidding me… yes, sir. I understand. Thank you, sir."

He handed Townsend back his phone and hit the intercom button with a balled fist. "Williams, open up a secure line to 990 kilohertz and pipe it directly in here."

"990 kilohertz? Aye, sir." His voice sounded confused.

A blue indicator light lit up and the captain pressed the blue button underneath it. He cast a glance at Lucas and whispered, "You're not going to believe this."

Static snow filled the vid-link screen. Any other time, Lucas would think they didn't have a connection yet, but this was an AM radio frequency. He didn't expect video to accompany.

The captain spoke clearly into the console mic: "Bravo-India-Golf-Sierra-Tango-India-Charlie-Kilo." Then he punched the blue button again and the light went out.

Lucas just stared at him. Tony was hurt, maybe dying. The people who attacked him were only stunned and could attack _Pelicano Grande_ or _seaQuest_ herself next. They were still stuck in this stupid tank and he was playing juvenile word games with some high mucky-muck from Washington?

Miguel's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Bridge to Captain."

"Bridger."

"The lock is opening, sir. Whatever Piccolo did, it worked!"

"Thank you, Mr. Ortiz. Tell _Pelicano Grande_ to exit as soon as she's clear. She's done her part for us and we owe her one."

"Aye, sir."

"Helm, get us through that opening as soon as our nose fits, then go to full speed. I don't care what we scrape getting out."

"Aye, sir."

Lucas's jaw dropped. "How?"

The captain beckoned him to follow as he stood. "Let's go see how Piccolo is, and I'll tell you."

They jogged through the corridor to the mag-lev. When they were seated and moving, the captain began his explanation. "Americans designed and built this whole canal system. We leased the land from Panama and we had to give it back in 1999. The Panamanians charge tolls in exchange for maintaining the equipment and that's fair. It _is_ their land we cut through. But there was no way the Navy would allow this marvel of American ingenuity to ever be used as a potential trap for its vessels in time of war. That's why they put in this failsafe, known only to the President of the United States and the Secretary of the Navy. Not even Admiral Noyce knew it."

"The key to the Panama Canal is 'big stick'?"

The captain chuckled. "Theodore Roosevelt was the impetus behind building the Canal. He used to say—"

Lucas joined him to chorus together: "Speak softly and carry a big stick."

The older man nodded. "He would have loved it."


	76. Chapter 99

**Chapter 99**

Nathan jogged most of the way from the mag-lev to the moon pool with Lucas right behind him. He couldn't stop berating himself for sending Piccolo into that hornet's nest with no backup beyond a naïve civilian. Not that the petty officer hadn't done well anyway. He lunged right into the line of fire, probably saving her life. However, they didn't know yet whether it may have cost _his_.

Nathan had regretted sending them even before finding out the entire mission was completely unnecessary in the first place. But now? What in the world were those idiots in Washington _thinking_? How stupid was it to have an emergency key so secret no one in the field even knew it existed so they could ask to _use_ it when the need arose? For heaven sake, don't tell any of our captains and commanders. It just might save ships and lives or how about the whole darned Panama Canal? Sure, Nathan wasn't about to blow that lock out of the water, but someone else could be in a more dire situation and not have hesitated.

Sea deck was even more crowded than usual. Dr. Smith was already there along with a group of medics and support people. Miss Wise was still in the water, supporting Piccolo. Nathan suppressed his gasp at all the blood coming out of Piccolo's chest. If they had been in open water instead of a lock, he'd have been shark bait for sure. Although she looked intent, Dr. Smith wasn't embroiled in a blur of frenzied emergency procedures or barking out urgent instructions. The patient's eyes were open and he looked lucid.

"How is he?" Three people stood in the way of the captain's approach, but the minute his voice was heard, they all parted and let him pass.

The doctor looked up from her examination, pulling stethoscope earpieces out of her ears. "I think there's a bullet in there. I need to get him to Medbay for x-rays. At least he's conscious. That's a good sign."

Piccolo looked down at his arms, one was tied down by a medic who was monitoring his blood pressure and the other one was held by Mika. "Sorry I can't salute, Cap."

"Petty Officer Piccolo," he said in a rather stern voice before a short pause and then switching to a more genuine tone, "that was outstanding work back there."

He shook his head. "Sorry it didn't work. All them alarms went off and we had to book it out of there."

"On the contrary. We're out of the lock now." He turned to Lucas. "Mr. Wolenczak, you are hereby sworn to secrecy on what happened in the ward room. Miss Wise and Mr. Piccolo opened the lock and liberated _seaQuest_."

Lucas rolled his eyes, pasted on the full-face smirk, and answered, "Of course they did."

"What happened in the ward room?" Piccolo asked.

"We watched a brave petty officer take a bullet for a civilian under his protection." Nathan managed a gentle tap on the leg that was half out of the water.

Miss Wise kissed Piccolo's cheek and whispered, "Thank you."

"Oooo," Lucas teased. "Commander Ford has com-pe-ti-tion," he drew out the word into exaggerated syllables.

Piccolo's eyes bugged out at Lucas's tease. He turned his face to the woman supporting him in the water. "Uh, you don't owe me nothin', ya know."

She smiled. "Yes, I know. You're not…" her brow wrinkled, then she continued uncertainly, "…trespassing on Jonathan's territory." She cast a look at Dr. Smith, who nodded approval.

_Trespassing? Territory?_ Nathan could only imagine what the estrogen gang might have told the poor, sheltered young woman. He was just happy to see everyone in good spirits.

The medics had maneuvered around their patient and finally were in position. They lifted him out of the water and to the gurney which sat waiting. Piccolo's face wrinkled up in pain, but he made a heroic effort to hide it. Lucas shared a quick fist bump and backed out of the way of all the medics who were now pushing the gurney toward the door. Nathan started to follow, but Wendy turned and flashed that reassuring doctor visage at him. "I'll let you know as soon as I know something."

He nodded and he kept his distance, but he secretly wished, for the tenth time that day, that he'd told Admiral Noyce he couldn't steal his CMO and ship her off to New Zealand. Wendy was competent. He knew that. But she didn't have the experience and she just wasn't Kristin. Since he'd pretty much convinced himself the mission had been a bad idea, that meant if Piccolo suffered any ill effects, it was his fault. He would feel a lot better putting that burden in Kristin's hands than in Wendy's. Then he realized Wendy would probably be able to feel his lack of confidence if he got too close to her, so he stopped in his tracks. The gurney, medics, and doctor continued down the hall.

Lucas ran into his back. "Whoops. Sorry, Captain. What's the matter?"

He wasn't going to tell Mr. Teen Scuttlebutt his personal issues, so he made another excuse. "I need to speak to Townsend."

"I think he's still in the ward room." His face held tension, probably worried he'd be dragged back to work.

Nathan moved aside, giving Lucas a fatherly smile. "You go on ahead. I'll check on Piccolo later."

The teen nodded, a relieved grin on his face, and dashed off.

Nathan turned and headed for the ward room. Townsend was indeed still there, working alone. "Mr. Wolenczak may not be back for a while."

"Is Piccolo going to make it?"

Nathan catalogued his clues. The doctor didn't seem panicked or worried. Piccolo appeared in good spirits. Yet, how much could change during surgery? Was his optimism born merely of hope? "I think so. She has to remove a bullet."

"Glad to hear that."

"Tell me, did you know this secret key existed before I sent the two of them into a trap?"

He shook his head. "No, sir. I was only hoping I could find someone who knew which buttons to push, so we could tell Miss Wise."

Nathan hadn't questioned the NCIS agent before the mission, so that was one less regret he'd have to live with. "Good. On behalf of myself and the entire crew, I want to thank you for getting us out of there."

"I didn't really do anything but make a call."

"Yes, but you knew who to get on the other end and that's what saved out butts."

He grinned. "Least I could do after Dr. Westphalen saved mine."

"I'm afraid my thanks will have to suffice. SecNav ordered me to keep the secret under wraps. For all everyone knows, Miss Wise opened the lock. I'm letting that assumption stand. The official log will state that after her attempt to operate the controls, the lock opened, without any mention of any _other_ procedures attempted from here. That means no one else will know how much you've helped us."

He shrugged. "We're all on the same team. You scratch my back. I scratch yours. You may want to have a talk with your comms guy."

_Ah, yes. Williams_. This would be easier if O'Neill had been at his station. The lieutenant knew how to get deep into the machinery and make that brief 990 kilohertz connection disappear like it never happened. Not that Nathan thought that degree of secrecy was necessary in this instance, he just preferred dealing with a known quality and Williams, although capable, wasn't someone Nathan knew that well. However, since any rumors were likely to make the key code more useful to another ship captain in time of need, he wasn't going to worry too much about the consequences. Well, other than kicking Williams off _seaQuest_. Whether the end result was positive or not, if Nathan wasn't free to share the secret, no mere NCO was either.

He wouldn't even be entertaining this whole crazy line of thought if he were dealing with one of his officers, and that was his point of annoyance. He wanted his people back. Yesterday.

He thanked Townsend and made sure he had everything he needed outside of Lucas, and then went back to the bridge. Ortiz immediately asked about Piccolo. Everyone on the bridge had heard the call to Medbay, but nothing since then.

"He was shot with a projectile weapon. Dr. Smith is x-raying him now. He's in good hands." He wondered whether he would have sounded that lame if Kristin were in charge. He decided he probably would. He glanced at his watch. He'd only been on duty for 27 hours straight. No reason to become a complete idiot.

"What's our course?" he asked.

The helm officer took a step toward him. "All ahead full as ordered, sir."

His tired mind wondered what they would have done had he stayed in Medbay. Keep going straight when they all knew they weren't pointed directly at New Zealand fresh from the locks? Then again, maybe they _didn't_ all know that. He felt a headache coming on. He glanced at the navigation array. "Heading two-four-zero, Mr. Daley."

"Two-four-zero, aye."

"Depth five hundred meters. Engines eighty percent."

"Five hundred meters, eighty percent speed, aye," came the reply from the dive officer.

"Mr. Ortiz, I need some sleep. Keep us from hitting any sea mounts, colonies, or tour subs. If you need to, consult Mr. Kendall's clone. He's not the chief, but he has all his memories, and I presume that includes navigation. Seek his advice, but don't take any orders from him. If the two of you can't agree on a change, call me."

"Aye, sir. We can handle it."

If he hadn't believed that with every fiber of his being, he would have found some espresso and forced himself awake. He nodded. "Very well. The bridge is yours, Mr. Ortiz."

The sensor chief stood and his voice got as formal as it ever was. "I have the bridge, Captain."

Nathan jogged to Medbay and hadn't really slowed much when he hurried through the hatchway.

Lucas caught him by the arm. "Dr. Smith is in surgery," he said quietly.

"Already?"

"You don't have to whisper." Wendy's voice came from behind that curtain divider thing that hung from the ceiling, giving her privacy with patients.

"I don't want to disturb you during surgery, Doctor."

"I'm almost done now. It wasn't as deep as I thought."

"That's good news. Where's Kendall…er, his clone?"

"Medbay 3. Sleeping. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. I need some of that myself. Do you foresee any problem with me letting the clone on the bridge, just for consultation?"

"I'm an empath, not a psychic." He could hear her smirk even from behind the curtain.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I know, and I think it's a good idea, especially if it will let you get some sleep. How long have you been up?"

He could feel the medical lecture coming and raised his hands in surrender. "Too long. I'm going to bed just as soon as I get Ortiz some backup." He turned from the curtain to look back at Lucas. "When was the last time _you_ slept?"

The teen consulted his watch. "Only ten hours ago. I'm good."

"All right. Townsend could use your help if you feel up to it."

"Lucas, I'll call you when Tony wakes up," Dr. Smith said, still hidden.

Lucas brightened and nodded amiably. "Yeah, I'll go help Townsend. You want us to call you if we find anything, or let you sleep?"

"You find a clue or two, it can wait. You find Chief Kendall, wake me immediately."

"Yes sir."

Nathan spoke to the curtain. "That goes for Piccolo too, Doctor."

"What? I already found him, he's right here in front of me." There was humor in her voice.

"Call me if he takes a turn for the worse, otherwise tell him I'll check on him later."

"He's going to be fine, Captain. I'll have him back on duty in twenty-fours hours."

Nathan smiled. "Thank you, Doctor. _Now_ I can sleep." He paid a quick shoulder pat to Lucas on the way out, found Kendall's clone and explained what he wanted.

"I can do that, sir."

"I was hoping you'd say that. Feel free to excuse yourself if you get any more of those urges or feel faint."

"I don't think I will, since Dr. Smith removed the hypnotic suggestions, but I'll watch it."

"I know you will. You're so much like him."

"I hope that's a compliment."

"The best."

"If my thoughts are any indication, Kendall has the greatest respect for you."

"It's mutual."

"I'm sorry I'm not him."

_I'm sorry you're not, too._ Nathan didn't voice his thought. His anger flared at whomever did this, but he kept reminding himself the clone had done nothing but thwart the cloners and now he was helping _seaQuest_ by lending Kendall's expertise so Nathan could get a few hours rest.

_Maybe this will all seem less surreal and strange after I sleep_.

He hurried to his quarters and collapsed on his bed without wasting a thought on how empty it was. If Kristin were here, she'd only be scolding him for staying on duty too long. If he dared try to argue, she'd probably sedate him. However, she wasn't here and he didn't need any help falling quickly into blessed sleep.


	77. Chapter 100

**Chapter 100**

Nathan slept nine straight hours before he awoke, feeling refreshed. He hadn't set an alarm because he assumed someone would need him sooner. He vaguely remembered entertaining some pretty wild doubts about his crew. Now, however, it didn't seem so unlikely that his people could handle a simple course across the Pacific. Why had he felt so unsure about some people, yet sure enough of a sensor chief that he'd given him the conn? They were all lucky there'd been no emergencies.

He sent Ortiz and the Kendall clone to bed and took over the bridge. After gathering status information from all stations and taking a short update call from Admiral Noyce, he settled back into his chair and pressed the intercom button. "Bridger to Smith."

"Smith here."

"How is Piccolo?" She'd been so optimistic during surgery, he figured everyone could stand to hear some good news.

"I sent him to his quarters about an hour ago. His arm needs to be in a sling for a couple of days, but barring any complications, he's cleared for light duty in twelve hours."

"Good to hear. You should get some sleep, Doctor."

"Another five minutes and you would have woken me."

"Acknowledged. Bridger out."

Lucas's voice came over the intercom speaker: "Captain, you might want to come down here."

"Ward room?"

"Yeah. I think me and Townsend found something."

"On my way." He left Ensign Hughes at the weapons station in charge of the bridge and hurried to the ward room.

"Sleep well, sir?" Townsend asked.

"I did, actually. What did you find?" He maneuvered in behind the two of them and planted his hands on Lucas's shoulders.

Lucas clicked away at the keyboard and pulled up surveillance footage as Townsend narrated.

"This is Kendall at the airport in Denver. He's alone and everything looks fine until here." Sped-up video showed him standing in a long line, checking in luggage, and getting a boarding pass. Then the video slowed to slower-than-normal as two large men flanked him and one pressed his overcoat into Kendall's side.

"In an airport? With all their metal detectors?"

"He hadn't gone through security yet. They were smart enough to let him check in for his flight, so everyone would think he boarded and they accosted him in the one place we all think is so safe. These guys are no amateurs. See how they back off and walk behind him, so Kendall can't see them, and everything looks normal again."

"But he already knew one of them had a weapon."

"Yes, and the airport is crowded. He might have gotten away, but civilians could have been hurt. He looks like he's biding his time for a better opportunity."

Nathan could see the calm, intent look in his eyes. He was studying his enemy and using that engineering mind of his to make plans.

"Unfortunately, his captors knew about surveillance cameras and they drive him into a restaurant with a back exit. They all vanish right here."

Surely, Lucas didn't call him down here just to show him that. "And?"

Townsend continued, "And Wolenczak here hacked every single traffic camera in Denver until he found this." A grainy photo of an old 2011 Toyota Prius revealed a driver and passenger whose faces somewhat resembled the kidnappers'. "I know. Fuzzy, right? But after digital cleanup we get this." The car's front seat shot cleared up, but the faces still weren't very remarkable. The screen divided in half to also display a frozen airport image next to it. "Facial recognition matched it to our perps." Neon green lines appeared on the faces, joining dots at crucial points. The geometric outlines blinked when the software proved a match.

"Okay, so that's the kidnappers. But how do we know they didn't kill Kendall, steal his DNA, and stash him in the trunk?"

Lucas and Townsend both chuckled, then Townsend curled a thumb at Lucas and explained, "This guy said the same thing. Do those thugs look like telepaths? They needed his memories. The clone wouldn't have made it ten minutes on _seaQuest_ without them. They had to deliver him alive."

"Deliver to whom?"

"We still don't know _who_, but we do know _where_." A few more clicks on the keyboard and the monitor showed the Prius arriving at a fortified paramilitary bunker hidden in the woods. New footage showed Kendall being yanked out of the back seat and forced inside. "That's their own cameras Wolenczak hacked," Townsend commented as they watched. Time-lapse showed the car alone for what appeared several hours. The sky darkened before the two men came back out and left in the car, alone. Then the scene changed abruptly. It was day again and the angle was from above, obviously a satellite camera. It panned around and then zoomed out to show the facility was miles away from all settlements. A map overlay gave them coordinates and perspective. "Wyoming. Middle of nowhere."

"You've already got a satellite on it," Nathan observed.

"I could do that much online," Townsend said. "We're about 80% sure he's still there. Of course, they may not need him alive anymore."

"Why kill a perfectly good hostage?"

The NCIS agent shrugged. "You mean other than the fact they already have the entire population of New Zealand?"

"You're right. We can't assume anything. What's next?"

"He's _your_ man, Captain. What do you want to do?"

_Want?_ He wanted to send in Brody, Ford, some SEALS, and maybe the National Guard for good measure, but that didn't look too likely from where he sat. "I want him out of there, that's what I want. If he's dead, we need to know."

"Can you let NCIS handle the rescue?"

Nathan chuckled. "We're in the middle of the Pacific and I sent my best security men to New Zealand. We _are_ on the same side, right?"

Townsend turned to face him and his voice took on a solemn tone. "If he's not already dead, there's probably a reason, one we don't want to think about. The knowledge in his head can be stolen _again_ in order to build a submarine to rival _seaQuest_. The UEO is not prepared for that."

The captain sighed. He'd tried to warn them. "No, they're not."

"You realize that's one thing we cannot allow to happen."

Nathan knew what he meant. Kendall would be sacrificed before they'd let the enemy have him. He let Townsend see the understanding in his eyes, but he didn't say anything in front of Lucas. "No, we can't. So go get him out."

"This isn't something I can handle on the Internex. I'll need to get in voice contact with my superiors."

"Do we need to surface for that satellite phone of yours?" Surfacing would mean losing time, but Kendall's life was worth it.

"Vid-link should be fine as long as you're not trying to maintain radio silence."

"That was just for the Canal, where it appears we had good reason."

Townsend nodded. "How is Piccolo doing?"

"Dr. Smith says he'll be fine."

Lucas scoffed, but he spoke with good humor, "Yeah, he's bummed he didn't get to lounge around Medbay for a week."

More likely he wanted time off, but not in Medbay. When this was all over, Nathan would see he got some extra shore leave. He'd earned it. Nathan paid Lucas a pat on the back before stepping away. "Good work, you two. Let me know if you hear anything."

Lucas said, "You got it," at the same time as Townsend said, "Yes, sir."

On the bridge, Nathan settled back into the captain's chair. He was glad _seaQuest_ was built for speed, though at times like these, even her unrivaled ability never seemed fast enough. Yet, as his impatience to get to New Zealand nagged at one side of his brain, the other side found it a shame to just zoom by all the wonders of the pelagic deep, not even taking the time to note the paths of whale migrations on the way.

Williams turned slightly to face him. "Sir, I've got a call for you from Dr. Westphalen."

Would she want privacy or speed? "Put her on my screen only." If she had time for anything personal, she could ask him to change venues.

"Aye, sir."

He'd seen Kristin looking haggard before, but it still surprised him to see her that way. Her disheveled hair, dirty face, and tired eyes didn't detract from her true beauty, but they did invoke pity. He tried to sound upbeat. "How's it going?"

"There was no time for prevention, Nathan. That bastard must have unleashed it right after Dre made her threat."

No doubt she blamed this on Zellar and she was probably right. There was no point in arguing for the man's 'suspect' status. Nathan just nodded and kept his expression sympathetic.

"The only consolation is it appears he only released it in Christchurch. We've lost a few hundred there, but it would be a thousand times worse if Peché hadn't brought all that antidote with him and Ben hadn't got us the hyposprays and the medical teams from Australia. We're also damned lucky this didn't happen ten years ago when we didn't have nano-preservatives to keep the vaccines viable."

"What about rioting?"

She shook her head while giving a weary shrug. "It's not too bad here, but we've heard some rumors coming from the more remote areas. I'm surprised it's not worse, actually." She paused, gazing intently at the camera. From the looks of it, she was calling from her vid-cell, where his image would look like a postage stamp. "Don't worry about us. The jet copter is on the roof, only a few steps away. Hitchcock can get us in the sky before the doors cave in."

Nathan hated that his wife had been put in a situation where she would imagine a scenario like that. He nodded even though he had every intention of worrying like hell.

Her voice took on a more clinical tone. "We think about 65% of the population is immunized now and another 15% is infected and receiving treatment. The rest are waiting in lines to get the vaccine. Dr. Peché says the native Maori seem to have a good deal of natural immunity not unlike his friend Pierre did. We've been incredibly fortunate at every turn, but we can't sustain this kind of luck. All our vaccine will be gone after this, Nathan. If they hit Washington or London next…" She trailed off ominously.

He swallowed hard. "Understood, Doctor. Now, if I can talk to my wife for a second, she should know Lucas and Townsend found Chief Kendall. NCIS is mounting a rescue."

She nodded, looking very much like she was suppressing the urge to give him a flippant, 'That's nice' reply. With the weight of an entire country being exposed to a deadly virus, he could hardly blame her for lacking the capacity to care about a crewmember she wasn't very close to. Her deep brown eyes flashed with the spark of idea. "Then please tell me you're putting Lucas and Townsend to work on finding Zellar next."

"Good plan. I'll do that."

She was distracted off screen for a moment, then looked back. "Commander Ford would like to know when you're getting here."

"Tell him we'll be at the Kaingeroa checkpoint in thirty minutes."

She nodded.

"Kristin, you can come back to _seaQuest_ any time. You know that, right?"

A heavy sigh and a weary ghost of a smile preceded her answer. "I know. One way or another, we'll be done here soon. But this mustn't happen again. We have no more antidote and we're all beyond exhausted. If even one infected person escapes…" She let her eyes punctuate the looming disaster she alluded to.

"Admiral Noyce says the blockade is holding well even without us. No one is going to get through."

She shook her head. "They'd better not, Nathan. They'd better not."

He didn't try to answer her rhetorical statement. "Does anyone else need to talk to me? Ford or Hitchcock?"

She glanced to the side and then looked back. "Ford said he's fine now he knows you're close." She got that devious look in her eye. "I sent Krieg and Hitchcock to the pediatric wing."

He smirked. "Meddler."

Mock-innocence flooded her tired face. "Who, me?"

He pointed his index at her. "Yes, you!"

A smug look erased the feigned innocence. "I figured it was time for them to either sink or swim. I'm not saving the world so we can all sit around and make money."

"Just save it so we can all live our _own_ lives. Meddle with the clams and sponges." He would have said more, but he was on the bridge and she wasn't alone either.

"I love you too, Nathan."

He nodded, keeping it discreet. She understood. They could communicate with a single meaningful look when they had to.

"Westphalen out."

Nathan looked up from the call. No one was staring, although he didn't doubt they all heard every single word. "I hope I don't have to remind everyone why it's so important we keep anyone trying to leave New Zealand from accomplishing that goal. There are eighteen undersea colonies within a hundred square kilometers of the islands. We're here to see they don't get contaminated."

Solemn nods answered him.

"Mr. Billings," he said to Ortiz's replacement. "As soon as we slow down, I want all the WSKRS in front of us and on maximum sonar."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Williams, you monitor the civilian frequencies for anything suspicious."

"Aye."

"Mr. Hughes," he said to the weapons officer, "we may need you, but remember, these are just frightened civilians, probably with families. They haven't done anything wrong. We need to prevent spread of the virus without killing any innocents in the process. We target engines only. Disable, don't destroy."

"Understood, sir," the ensign affirmed.

He remembered Kristin's suggestion and hit the intercom. "Mr. Wolenczak, when you have a minute, I have a new assignment for you."

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you to all of you who saw and heeded my footnote on Gynocracy. Doing that conversion was why this chapter was so late. I could still use more Amazon reviews if anyone is so inclined, and it does NOT have to be glowing. There's been a big scandal in the book world about people buying fake reviews to boost their sales, so now any book with all 5-star reviews is suspect, even if it was earned. So please do not be afraid to be HONEST. Really. Thanks again to all of you for your support.**_


	78. Chapter 101

_**A/N: Fair warning: death of OC.**_

* * *

**Chapter 101**

Master Chief Chuck Kendall could see the handwriting on the wall. He saw his abductors get paid for delivering him to some kind of underground bunker where Andrea Dre was calling the shots and Rubin Zellar and a bunch of techies from Gen-U-Flect were cooking up who-knew-what in a laboratory that made _seaQuest_'s labs look rinky-dink by comparison.

He'd tried to fight when they used a telepath to steal his memories, but he couldn't stop the mind invasion any better than Lucas had been able to stop Clay Marshall. The torture of resistance was excruciating, but it didn't last long and they still got what they wanted. He saw the replica they made with his DNA. It was a perfect copy. Not even his mother would have been able to tell the difference. Yet, after they sent the doppelganger off to _seaQuest_ in his place, they shoved him in a cell instead of killing him like he expected.

At first, he thought he was alone, but he later discovered they held Dr. Franklin Wise in another cell around the corner. The Gen-U-Flect goons were probing his mind too, extracting secrets to use in their twisted genetic manipulations. There was a tiny window in the door of his cell where he could peek out. The steel walls, although unyielding to his attempts at escape, were not at all soundproof, so he heard more than enough to figure out where this was leading.

He'd been powerless to stop them when they released canisters of Liberté virus into New Zealand and then watched the news with bloodlust in their eyes to see how much damage they'd done. In one of the newscasts, he could have sworn he saw Dr. Westphalen working in the background, but it was only a glimpse and the doctor wore a mask. Maybe he'd just been desperate to see a friendly and familiar face in the midst of so much disaster and chaos.

However, the day after the virus was unleashed, Dre and Zellar had a huge confrontation. "You said this would kill millions!" she roared.

"How was I supposed to know Peché had such a stockpile of antidote? Besides, they got there way too quickly. Your lackeys must have tipped them off."

"Don't you dare try to pin this on me, Doctor. I got you out of that prison. I can put you right back."

Zellar held up a vial of translucent amber liquid. "Watch yourself, Madam Secretary. If you back a lion into a corner, you don't get out alive."

She scoffed, or at least her facial expression suggested it. Kendall couldn't hear _that_ well through his cell walls. "Save it, Dr. Doom. I saw your file. You're no more ready to die than I am. Whatever that is, it'd kill you too."

An evil glint passed his eyes and he shook the vial ever so gently. "Can you really be so sure?" He gestured around him. "Look at this lab. I've been in here for days. How do you know I haven't developed an antidote and made myself immune to this toxin already?"

The ex-secretary-general planted her hands on her hips. "Kill all of us and you'd be right back where you started. What are you going to do, hitchhike to Washington and waltz into the White House when every FBI and Secret Service agent alive has your face on their top ten most wanted?"

He arched a brow and then gave a careless shrug. "I concede I need you now. However, you should consider the future."

"We had a deal!"

"Yes, and I helped you kill four-hundred-some-odd Kiwis. Surely that's earned you enough credibility to move to the next step."

Four hundred people dead and he showed no more remorse than had he swatted a housefly. There was no telling whether that vial had something lethal in it or not. He'd been bluffing on _seaQuest_, but he'd had no time then. Zellar's reputation was legendary and he'd proven time and again he had no conscience. It would be stupid to make any assumptions.

Some guy wearing combat fatigues without any country's affiliation rushed up to Dre. "I don't know how, but they found us. NCIS and FBI are on their way."

"Give the evacuation orders."

"Yes, ma'am."

_Well, this is it_. They certainly didn't need him any longer and he'd be too much trouble to transport. Kendall had been close to death before, but this was different. Captain Bridger always turned sure death into victory, but he was pretty sure this time he was on his own. _SeaQuest_ couldn't rescue him from an underground bunker.

Oddly, he wasn't all that broken up about the certainty of his death. He'd expected it sooner than this. The only consuming thought on his highly analytical mind was how to take as many of these terrorists with him as he could. He'd never pointed so much as a non-lethal weapon at anyone in his entire life, unless one counted _seaQuest_'s lasers and torpedoes. But that wasn't the same…or was it? There was no captain or admiral here to tell him what to do, but he had to try to stop these people from releasing deadly toxins and blackmailing the planet into dictatorship.

Bridger had won confrontations with Dre and Zellar, thwarted both of them and made sure they were delivered to the proper authorities. But where had that got them? Not that any of this was in any way Bridger's fault. No, Kendall just couldn't see hitting Zellar with a stun gun or putting Dre in a half-nelson, then handing them over to the FBI or Interpol or whatever. They had to be stopped. Permanently.

"Back away from the door," some guard shouted through the glass of the door's tiny window. Remarkably, he held a stun gun. Maybe they thought they needed a hostage for their escape. Out of the bunker, they'd be a little more vulnerable. Dre and Zellar did have their faces plastered everywhere.

Kendall decided to play nice. The longer he could stay alive, the better his chances of making his death count for something more than just another victim to add to the four hundred.

The guard unlocked the door and threw a pair of handcuffs through the opening. "Put these on."

Kendall nodded and tried to sound cooperative. "Sure thing."

The guard entered the cell cautiously and stared down his prisoner, daring him to defy his instructions.

Kendall slipped the metal around his wrist, acting like he thought nothing of it. _Keep the bad guys comfortable and wait for opportunity_. The cuff closed with an unmistakable ratcheting sound. Kendall looked at the guard with a placating almost-smile, hoping he communicated a compliant attitude. There was no doubt he was supposed to cuff himself in front, but the wild thought entered his mind to go for behind the back. It would make the guard feel more comfortable, right? And it would make Kendall look more cooperative.

He swung both arms behind his back, watching the guard's face. If he had an objection, he could have said so. Instead, he chose to act like this was expected, as if to admit he'd originally intended a less-secure position was beneath his intelligence.

In the split-second it took to assess the guard's mood, a voice in his head said, _Go for it_. What did he have to lose? They were going to kill him anyway. At worse, they'd do it now and his death would be meaningless, but if this stunt actually worked, he had a chance—a small chance, he knew—but a chance to make it mean something. He closed the cuff onto thin air and let it dangle free on his back, then he laced his fingers together so he could maintain the illusion he'd locked his wrists together.

Kendall expected the guard to demand a look, and he would use that moment to kick the gun out of his hands. After that, he'd run. The cell door was open and he could find Dre or Zellar and do his best to get his hands around whatever throat he could. Maybe he'd get lucky and the kick that disarmed the guard would put the gun in his possession, so he could stun the guard and anyone else who came after him. He didn't count on it.

But, incredibly, the guard didn't ask him to turn around at all. Kendall had to fight the satisfaction welling inside of him. He should continue to act cooperative and subdued, let the guard feel confident and in-control.

The guard grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him toward the door.

Kendall did so without resistance, but he knew this meant discovery was imminent. He'd be in front of the guard and there'd be no way to hide. He didn't have a plan, but he listened to his gut instincts. He took several steps toward the door, including one that put him somewhat in front of the man training a stun gun on him. Although he knew waiting was risky, it also made his actions seem more natural. He allowed his back to show for just a single confidence-enhancing second, then once outside the door, he turned to face the guard, still moving.

"Where are we going?" Natural, right?

The abrupt turn had surprised the guard. Kendall saw it in his eyes and immediately exploited it by slamming the metal door in his face. The lock engaged automatically and the guard screamed and banged his fist on the closed door. Kendall didn't waste time trying to see if anyone noticed. Surely his life minutes were numbered now.

People were already hurrying around, gathering what they could before evacuation. He scanned their faces. Dre was nowhere to be seen. He ran toward the lab, hoping for better luck with Zellar. Everyone had on lab coats and was too busy to look up from gathering important equipment. He heard Zellar's voice, cold and calculating, telling some poor sap he'd be left behind if he didn't hurry up.

So Zellar was near, but time was running out. The guard's banging would alert someone and he'd be grabbed or tased or shot at any time. His scanning eyes hit upon a vial which looked exactly like the one Zellar had held up during his argument with Dre. _Could it be?_ Kendall lunged for it. Zellar either saw his lunging or had planned to pick it up next because they both ended up struggling over the tiny glass container.

From the way the scientist fought, Kendall surmised he hadn't been bluffing about whatever was within the glass. Since Kendall didn't care about gaining possession, only getting it away from Zellar, he had the easier time. The vial loosened from sweaty hands and flew into the air.

"Nooooo!" Zellar screamed. He lunged toward the flying vial.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Kendall hurled his body between Zellar and the vial, thwarting him from catching it. He heard the glass shatter on the tile floor behind him. A sharp odor assaulted his nostrils, reminding him vaguely of horseradish and diesel fuel. _Whatever this is, I hope it's fast_. However, after the first whiff, he found himself unwilling to take in more and held his breath.

Memories of his life flashed over the canvas of his mind as his body swayed in a slow-motion limbo. College graduation. His sister's wedding. Sailing _skyQuest_ in the sixteenth century. People started screaming and moaning all around him. He knew he should feel sorry for them, for himself, but all he could think was, _better us than the rest of the world_. Whatever he'd smelled and held in his lungs now started to burn and he couldn't think about anything else but the great desire to reverse the course he'd set and find another way. And then, without warning, Rubin Zellar's rage-filled face appeared. From nowhere, a fist slammed square into Kendall's nose and upper cheek. Everything went black.


	79. Chapter 102

**Chapter 102**

The blockade of New Zealand turned out to be fairly routine. The only 'hot spot' was near Christchurch, where the larger death toll had made people panic more than in other areas. The rest of the Kiwis seemed to understand that getting vaccinated was a better solution than running away. Henderson and Shan showed up with _Splendor_ almost too late, but their presence meant less pressure on the navy, so more subs could go back to patrolling the rest of the Pacific. Nathan was finally able to send Lieutenant Ranier, the pilot who'd delivered the jet copter, out on a shuttle launch to join an aircraft carrier.

"Captain Bridger?" Townsend's voice came over the intercom.

Something was off in his tone, but Nathan tried not to make any assumptions. The NCIS agent and Lucas had been working hard for days. He hit the button on his command console. "Bridger here."

"I need to see you immediately." Urgent, tense.

_Kristin_. Surely Townsend wouldn't know before Ford or Hitchcock, would he? Unless _all_ of them… He stuffed the thought down deep. "On my way."

He ran to the ward room. Lucas's face said more than Townsend's tone, but it only made matters worse. The NCIS agent stood and offered his vid-cell. "I have NCIS Director Harris on my mobile. He suggested you take the call in private." He tapped Lucas and the teen vacated his chair abruptly.

Nathan accepted the device, but he put his hand over the receiver. He caught Lucas's shoulder with his free hand. "You wait right outside the door." He looked into the teen's eyes, willing the kid to understand what wasn't spoken: _We'll get through this together_.

Lucas nodded as if he'd perceived and patted Nathan's back as he passed. _What does he already know?_

The door shut. Nathan peered into the small vid-screen. "Director Harris."

"Ah, Captain Bridger. Thank you for taking my call."

"Special Agent Townsend has been very helpful to us." Not that he wouldn't have taken the call otherwise. He hated making small-talk.

"He said the same about your Wolenczak."

Nathan tried to rein in his impatience. "What can I do for you, Director?"

"The good news is, we found Franklin Wise in the same bunker where Kendall was taken. He was tortured and weak, but he's going to be all right."

"I'm sure his daughter will be happy to hear that. Thank you."

The director sighed. "Unfortunately, Chief Kendall wasn't so lucky. He sacrificed himself to take out Zellar and Dre. At least we hope it was really them and not more clones. The DNA is a perfect match, but as far as we know, the only way to tell a clone from the original is a telepathic mind probe."

Which wouldn't work on the dead. _Damn_. He tried to control the dozens of conflicting emotions roiling around in his mind. "What happened?"

"I have video from their internal surveillance cams. It's hard to watch. The toxin Zellar developed is far from humane."

"Understood. Show me anyway."

Nathan stared at the tiny screen. Kendall turned on an armed guard as he was being removed from a holding cell. After locking the guard in his cell, the chief ran across the room without much resistance. The camera angle changed to show him enter a lab of some sort. People were packing up boxes in a hurry. Kendall grabbed a test tube full of golden liquid at the same time as Zellar. There was a scuffle which was hard to follow in the grainy footage and small screen, but Kendall managed to bat it out of Zellar's hands. It shattered on the floor. There was no sound, but the "Noooo!" on Zellar's lips and the horror in his eyes proved he'd dropped something lethal.

Almost immediately, people started to cough and double over. The furious Zellar took his anger out on Kendall and threw a punch that knocked the chief out cold. He crumpled to a heap on the floor while everyone else in the room coughed violently and opened their mouths in silent screams. Soon they were writhing in agony. Blood escaped their noses and they convulsed like they were being electrocuted. Kendall remained motionless.

"He died peacefully, Captain," Harris said over the silent video. "Zellar probably didn't consider what a favor he did to knock him out like that."

Nathan took a moment to assimilate the information. "You said Dre was there too?"

He nodded affirmatively. "We hope so. Thirty-two people died in there. It would have been much worse if we had opened the door. Our chemists say we'd have lost all our agents and probably had to evacuate the entire state of Wyoming."

"How did you know not to open the door?"

"Apparently, the prisoners were on a separate ventilation system."

_Yeah, so they could gas them_, Nathan thought darkly. Remembering the cells on If where gassing had been so commonplace brought a lump to his throat. They'd all still be Beauregard's prisoners in those horrible trapezoidal cells if it hadn't been for Kendall.

"That guard Kendall locked up—we heard his pounding and screaming, so we went in through the ventilation ducts and got him and Wise out. He was a mercenary hired by Dre and quite happy to spill his guts as long as we took him away from that nightmare bunker. His statement led the FBI to the databanks for all their electronics—video, computer memory, some recorded communications. It's slow going in haz-mat suits, but it looks like the crisis is over."

_Yes, but at a very high cost_. Nathan nodded numbly.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Captain. SecNav already started the paperwork for a posthumous Medal of Honor. He'll be interred at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific."

_The Punchbowl,_ _Honolulu_. "Are services planned already?"

The director shook his head. "No plans will proceed until _seaQuest_ is able to return to Pearl. His shipmates were his only family and he requested your chaplain officiate at services. Oh, and he bequeathed all his trimaran patents to Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns."

Was this really the time to point out that he could potentially profit from Kendall's heroic sacrifice? "I'd rather have _him_."

A nod. "Of course." A short pause, and then, "Forgive my bluntness, Captain, but what about his clone?"

Nathan shook his head. "I'm all for giving clones full human rights, but just because someone installed stolen memories in that genetically engineered head of his, doesn't make him my chief engineer."

"I understand. I suspect the admiral will be calling you next. With Wise recovered, you can send Townsend back to us at your earliest convenience."

"If the UEO ever decides we need an Agent Afloat, I'd request Townsend."

Harris smiled. "Well, that will certainly look good on his record. So noted, Captain. Smooth sailing."

His image irised out before Nathan could reply. The captain set aside his personal grief and called Lucas back into the room. "Where did Townsend go?"

"He went to tell Mika they rescued her dad."

"Good. How much do you know?"

He shrugged. "They don't make civilians leave the room for good news."

"You're right. Kendall didn't make it. He purposely broke a vial of toxin to kill Dre and Zellar and everyone else in the bunker—except the prisoners. They were on separate ventilation. Dr. Wise was very lucky."

"We should have found him sooner."

Nathan slipped his arm around the kid's shoulders. "Actually, if the rescue team had got there sooner, they might have rushed in just as the vial broke. They would have died and maybe half the state of Wyoming with them. Kendall knew what he was doing. This isn't your fault."

Lucas nodded, but sadness pervaded his normally upbeat countenance. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Take some time off. Go swimming with Darwin. Play video games. Listen to music so loud your eardrums burst."

That earned him a chuckle. Nathan smiled. "I'm going to see if I can get Dr. Westphalen and the others to come home. They're postponing Kendall's funeral until _seaQuest_ can get back to Pearl."

"What about his family?"

"We're it." He would have said more, but Lucas of all people understood how family wasn't solely defined by blood.

"Good. I mean, I'm glad they're waiting for us."

"Me too, pal."

Lucas took off. Nathan slipped a memory chip into Townsend's phone and replayed the call until he got to the surveillance footage, then he hit 'record' and saved it to the chip. He didn't copy any of his conversation with Harris except the part where the director narrated over the video. He placed the chip in his breast pocket and the phone in his trouser pocket. He didn't want to leave it lying unattended in the ward room; he'd hand it to Townsend personally.

He dawdled a few minutes, waiting for Noyce to make his expected call, but when it didn't come, Nathan decided their conversation could wait.

He pulled his PAL from his belt. "Bridger to Smith."

"Smith."

"Doctor, I need to see you in private."

"I'm in the mess, but I could meet you somewhere else."

"Stay there. I'm on my way."

He found the mess deserted enough for his needs. Wendy sat alone in the farthest corner, eating what appeared to be yogurt. She put her spoon down and started to stand.

"Keep your seat, Doctor. We don't have to leave." He sat across the table from her.

"What is it?" she asked with concern.

He suppressed the knee-jerk reaction of questioning her ethics. Kendall's death was heavy on his heart and it shouldn't surprise him that any other person he was close to could see it on his face. He wouldn't have thought twice if it was anyone else. Why did he always have to catch himself with Wendy, even though he trusted her? "I just got word Chief Kendall sacrificed himself to take out Dre and Zellar. At least we hope it's them. You can't do a mind probe on a dead body, can you?" He tried to insert humor into his mostly-rhetorical question, but it fell flat.

She shook her head. "No, I can't. I could scan the man in Zellar's prison cell, but that probably isn't a good idea."

He'd forgotten they'd only _assumed_ a clone had taken his place in prison. Maybe they should make sure. "Why?"

"Wouldn't proving he's a clone mean he would go free?"

"Yes, but…" _Crap_. Nathan had trusted Kendall's clone enough to let him act as a temporary consultant on the bridge. If Zellar's clone was equally close in mind and character to the real Zellar (and Kristin definitely believed he was), then letting him out of prison was a monumentally bad idea. "He'll get a lawyer and find another telepath to prove it for him anyway."

"Maybe, assuming another telepath would do it. I think I have enough respect in the parapsychology community that my refusal would send a message to the others."

Nathan sighed. "Someone out there will do it if they offer enough money."

She shrugged. "A paid witness means testimony will be suspect. Besides, it won't matter as long as we can keep the legal process mired in red-tape long enough."

Maybe he was just too traumatized to grasp what she was trying to say. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember that message Major Allen gave you? What your older self told you about his cloned grandson? Because they accelerated the growth of both your son's DNA and then the test tube baby they made with it, his body experienced a rapid burnout and finally decomposed. The only way clones can live normal lives is if they don't ever speed things up. The man who looks like Kendall, who's on _seaQuest_ right now—he's got maybe a year to live at most."

_Ouch_. He'd been adamant about not wanting the clone to have Kendall's rank and position, but he didn't want him dead. It was like having to lose the real Kendall _again_.

"I'm sorry, Nathan. That was insensitive. I was trying to explain why time would help us with whatever is in Zellar's prison cell. If it lives, that means it's really Zellar, and he belongs there. If his body starts to break down, we'll know it's a clone."

He started to speak but she raised her hand in a halting gesture. "Don't ask me to decide whether or not it's morally right to keep a madman's clone locked up when he didn't do anything. I got seriously bad vibes just from watching the recording of you and Kristin talking to him. Right or wrong, _I_ won't be the one to help _that thing_ get out of there."

He nodded. "Fair enough. No one should force you to scan a madman anyway." He knew she would do it for a good cause, but as she pointed out, no good would come of this.

"We should have talked about Kendall first. He was special to everyone he rescued from Beauregard. We'll all miss him."

"The director of NCIS gave me internal surveillance footage showing how he died. I wanted you to see it first and advise me on whether I should show the whole crew, and if so, what to say to them."

She nodded.

"It's graphic," he warned as he pulled the data chip from his shirt pocket. "Kendall's death isn't so bad because Zellar knocked him unconscious, but I don't doubt I'll have nightmares about the others I saw on this." He set the chip on the table and then maneuvered Townsend's vid-cell out of the pant pocket so she'd have a way to watch it.

She watched the whole thing in silence, cringing appropriately. When it was over, he waited for her to speak.

"You're right, it's graphic, but that kind of death could have been the fate of millions of innocent people if Kendall hadn't stopped them."

"They're going to give him the Medal of Honor."

"They'd _better_," she said with a note of protectiveness.

"And they're holding the funeral until _seaQuest_ can get to Pearl. Anyone who wants to will be able to attend."

"My personal advice? Show this to the guys from engineering and anyone who was on If. We're the ones who care enough that we'd conjure worse scenes than what really happened. If anyone else comes to me for grief counseling, I'll send them to you too."

"What about Lucas?"

"He has the same right as anyone. You or Kristin should watch it with him if he wants to see it."

"I can arrange that. Thank you, Doctor." He stood, gathered the vid-cell, and excused himself from her table so she could finish eating in peace, or at least what peace was possible after what he'd just shown her.

"You're welcome, Captain."

He headed for the bridge to make the sad announcement. Just before he was about to step into the mag-lev, Williams' voice came over the intercom. "Bridge to Captain."

He backed up two paces and hit the wall console. "Bridger."

"I have Commander Ford for you, sir."

"I'll take it in my quarters." It was only a slight detour. He would rather have told Ford in person, but he deserved to know as soon as everyone else.

Jonathan looked as exhausted as he'd ever seen him. "Captain, I just talked to Admiral Noyce. Did you hear about Kendall yet?"

"Yes, the director of NCIS called me just minutes ago. What did the admiral have to say?"

"He said we don't need as many guards on Doctors Levin and Westphalen anymore, but to call you for confirmation. We still have no way to prove he's not a clone from our end."

"I concur with the admiral's assessment. When will the doctors be ready to come home?"

He cringed and shook his head. "You'd better ask them yourself."

"Understood. Suggestions?"

"Hitchcock won't leave them without an escape contingency. Send a shuttle for O'Neill, Brody, and Dagwood."

"Sorry, Commander, but I want to see my wife and the only way I can leave _seaQuest_ is if I get you back here to take the bridge." Actually, he could have left the bridge with either of his returning lieutenants, but they were no doubt just as tired as Ford. Exhaustion and inexperience were not a good combination. Besides, he suspected Jonathan was trying to be charitable and leaving the worst duty for himself. "Brody can stay with Hitchcock and the doctors."

Sure enough, relief washed over the XO's face. "No argument from me. I haven't sat down in…" He stared offscreen in deep thought. "What day is it anyway?"

Nathan chuckled. "Wednesday, I think. Don't plan on coming on duty without a shower and at least four hours of sleep."

He opened his mouth to protest.

The captain gave him the authoritative glare and creased brow that would precede him saying, 'That's an order,' a reminder he didn't like to give to anyone with Ford's integrity.

Ford took the non-verbal hint and stifled any planned protest. "Yes, sir."

"You'll share the news about Kendall to those with you?"

"Already done. Someone should inform Shan and Henderson."

"My responsibility. Thanks for the reminder. Head toward the docks. Shuttle will be there in twenty minutes."

"Aye, sir. Ford out."

Nathan removed the memory chip from Townsend's vid-cell and left it in his quarters. He'd show everyone who wanted to see at the same time, reducing the number of times he had to relive it.

However, the video wasn't a necessary part of the news and the rest of the crew needed to be informed. He could have done it from his quarters, but it felt a bit cowardly. He returned to the bridge.

"Mr. Williams, put me on shipwide speakers."

Williams flicked switches and then turned and nodded. "You're on."

"Attention. It is my sad duty to inform you all of the death of Master Chief Charles Kendall." A gasp went up from the bridge, but Nathan didn't stop. "He died in the line of duty and took Rubin Zellar, Andrea Dre, and a group of terrorists with him. The funeral will be postponed until _seaQuest_ is able to return to Pearl, and everyone will have leave to attend. We will observe a moment of silence in his honor."

Everyone whose duty allowed for it stood at his or her station. He left them for at least fifteen seconds, some with heads bowed, some looking straight forward, but all with deep respect.

"Thank you. Dr. Smith will be available for grief counseling any who feel the need. As you were." Nathan sat first, and waited while the rest of his stunned bridge crew followed. "Mr. Williams, get me _Splendor of the Sea_." He sighed inwardly as he braced himself to repeat the sad news yet again.


	80. Chapter 103

**Chapter 103**

When the shuttle from Auckland arrived, Nathan sent Ford and O'Neill straight to their quarters. Dagwood didn't look as tired as the rest of them, but he'd never been expected to keep any kind of schedule. He could decide for himself when he wanted to sleep.

"Thank you for helping us protect the doctors," Nathan said.

The big guy grinned. "Riding the helicopter was fun."

Nathan checked his watch. Ford would sleep precisely four hours and not a minute more. His shower and dressing would probably take a total of ten minutes. Allowing time for a briefing on the bridge, Nathan told the shuttle pilot to be ready to take him to Auckland in four and a half hours.

The captain returned to the bridge. It was a good thing the blockade was so routine. Melancholy had descended like a fog bank and taken over the entire boat.

After three hours had passed, the intercom beeped and Dr. Smith's voice came through. "Captain, our guest would like to speak with you at your convenience."

Our guest. She had to mean the clone. She would have used Mika's name. There had been too much time to dwell on sad facts and wallow in grief. He welcomed the chance to stand, walk, and get a change of scenery. "Have him meet me in the ward room."

"Thank you. Smith out."

As he made his way to the meeting, he thought about how to address the name problem. Surely the man didn't want to be known as 'the clone' for the rest of his short life. But Nathan was very much opposed to calling him Kendall. Chief Kendall had made the ultimate sacrifice. The clone had been produced without his permission and with stolen memories. Everything about this was so messy and weird.

The clone had dressed in medical scrubs and parted his hair differently than Kendall did. His voice was low and meek when he spoke. "Thank you for seeing me, sir."

"This is awkward for all of us, but it's not your fault."

"I'm sorry about Kendall, I really am. I feel like a part of me is gone."

Nathan shrugged. "In a way, you're right. The two of you are rather inextricably tied."

"Dr. Smith told you about my life expectancy?"

"Yes, she did." He hadn't considered it might have been a breach of his privacy to do that. He hoped he didn't have to defend her.

"You don't want me to be your chief engineer." A statement, not a question.

It sounded so cold and cruel when he repeated it, even though Nathan still felt that way. "If you want to be in the navy, you have to join and go through Basic yourself."

"If they scan my fingerprints or my DNA, I can prove I'm already enlisted and have been through Basic before. I learned all those lessons. I can pass any test they want to give."

The clone had him there, but Nathan couldn't shake his conviction that this just wasn't _right_. It was going to take him a second to form a cohesive argument.

The clone didn't wait. "But that isn't really the point, is it? I agree, I can't stay on _seaQuest_. It would make everyone uncomfortable, including me."

Nathan tried not to let his relief show. "Do you want a recommendation for another post?" He would have given Kendall any transfer, any promotion in his power to give after what he did in the Black Sea. This man had to know that.

"In a way, yes. I'd like to work for Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns. The trimaran is going into production and I could help with Project Calypso, too, if you think I'm trustworthy enough."

"This isn't about trust." Even as the words left his lips, Nathan felt a pang of dishonesty. "Well, maybe it is. We don't know enough about cloning to know how closely human beings can be copied. Even if you remember everything Kendall ever did or said or thought, that doesn't make you the same person."

"I know. He's a hero and I'm just the cheap knock-off."

"I didn't say th—"

The clone cut him off with a slashing gesture, a sigh, and a shake of his head. "I'm the one who said it because that's how I feel. I can never fill Chief Kendall's shoes. I'm not going to be here long enough to try."

"Have you considered choosing a name so people don't call you 'the clone'?"

He nodded. "Ken Charleson."

Fitting. "All right, Mr. Charleson. We need to talk to Hitchcock about you working for the company. Would you care to come with me to Auckland and speak to her yourself?"

"I'd like that very much. Thank you, sir."

Nathan checked his watch. "Be at Launch Bay in an hour."

The last hour on the bridge was routine and Ford showed up exactly when expected. He probably wasn't fully rested, but he'd never admit it. He looked much better than when he first came aboard. If they were in dangerous waters, Nathan might have been more concerned, but this was just a simple clean-up operation. Besides, Nathan wasn't going that far. He'd be available for consultation, not that Ford needed anyone to hold his hand, no matter how tired he was. _SeaQuest_ was in good hands.

He informed Hitchcock he was coming ashore and she sent Krieg with a car to pick him and Charleson up. Seeing Krieg in uniform again was odd. "How does it feel to be in the Navy again, Lieutenant?"

"Strange, sir. I'll be out of everyone's way as soon as the crisis is over."

"To my knowledge, you haven't been in anyone's way at all. Dr. Westphalen tells me you saved millions of lives."

He shrugged. "It wasn't that hard to find those hyposprays. Anybody could have done it."

_Humility? Ben Krieg?_ "You not only found them, but you got them sent here in record time, and you found personnel to use them."

His eyes flashed with some of that old Krieg mischief. "Everything's a lot easier when you don't have to deal with guys like The Regulator."

"Or navy requisitions." Nathan lowered his voice. "You know, no one is ever going to reimburse you and Hitchcock for the expenses." No mention of cost had ever been made in his hearing, but it had to be staggering—buying medical equipment, airlifting it from South Africa and Hong Kong, renting out Quantas airlines.

Ben looked away as if he was embarrassed. "It's just money."

Charleson had listened to their exchange in amused silence, but that last statement was too much. "Captain, has Dr. Smith checked this lieutenant out? I don't think he's Ben Krieg."

Everyone chuckled at that, including Krieg. Nathan would have been a lot more alarmed about the possibility of dozens of other clones standing in for strategic leaders all over the world were it not for the very affliction Charleson suffered. Troubling though it may be for the present, if there were any clones out there, they'd self-destruct in a year.

"Lieutenant Krieg, I don't believe you've met Ken Charleson. He's here to ask you and Hitchcock if he can come work for us."

Ben's eyes got big and something like hunger entered his voice. "You're not staying on _seaQuest_?"

"It would be… awkward."

"But you have all of Kendall's memories, right? You know how he designed _skyQuest_."

"Yes. I also know you told Kendall he would always have a job at Bridger Hitchcock if he ever wanted to leave the Navy." Just as Ben was about to respond, Charleson added, "Not that I assume the offer extends to me. I know I'm not the chief."

"If the captain vouches for you, you got my vote. It'll be up to Katie though."

"That's why I'm here."

It took a while to get to the hospital. Nathan had been to Auckland before, but the streets had never been this clogged with people. "You sure there hasn't been rioting?"

"Here?" Ben's voice was incredulous, almost laughing. "Naw. Businesses are all closed down because of the emergency and there was a big celebration when they announced Dre and Zellar were dead."

Only laid-back Kiwis would have turned a plague into a national holiday. At least they were calm and making the best of the situation.

Ben turned to Charleson. "Don't be surprised if people think you're the Second Coming. Kendall's face got plastered everywhere."

Charleson sighed. "I'm growing a beard."

It was a little less blissful at the hospital, where the people waiting in a long line outside looked weary and a bit on the grouchy side. The three men got out of the car and headed into the building. Since Charleson still wore scrubs, it looked like they were accompanying a doctor.

"Still a line," Nathan commented.

Ben scoffed. "You should have seen it before."

"Someone has assured them there will be enough for everyone."

The lieutenant nodded. "Done it myself a couple of times, and we're constantly checking them for symptoms. Anyone sick gets a quick move to the front of the line."

"And they know it, otherwise they would have stormed the place days ago."

"Maybe, but we had Dagwood standing at the front door until just recently."

He wondered idly whether that had been Brody's idea.

Ben led them to where Kristin was working. Nathan didn't notice when he and Charleson left because Kristin dropped everything to practically tackle him with an enthusiastic embrace. "What are you doing here?" It was a joyful confusion.

"Someone stole my CMO and I want her back."

She gestured toward the line. "Did you come in through the front?"

"Yes, I saw. But they're being calm and orderly. Surely New Zealand can look out for herself now."

She led him to a quiet corridor away from prying eyes. "Give us four more hours. Levin and I are superfluous right now, but Ben…"

"Krieg? Why?"

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Nathan, he learned their national anthem just so he would be able to get unruly masses singing when nothing else worked. _He_ is the reason there were no riots here. And every time he's been interviewed by the media, he gives all the credit to the UEO. That Macronesian Alliance thing you're always worried about? There's no way they'll ever get New Zealand on their side, not after this. In fact, all the Australian doctors will probably go home relieved at how we contained this and protected their country, too. I would never, ever wish for something like this to happen, but good has come from it."

Nathan grinned. "You beat Rubin Zellar again."

Her face fell and her brows furrowed. "How sure are they that it was him?" Her tone was guarded. It was a credit to her intelligence she didn't assume the news media was wholly reliable in their declaration of his death.

"No one's sure of anything. But we don't want to force a test on whatever is in his prison cell, or it could get him—or it—freed. Dr. Smith says none of the clones have long to live. If he's still alive in a year, we'll know that's him."

"Great. Everyone thinks he's dead _now_."

"For what it's worth, I think he's dead now too. Dre wouldn't have trusted a clone to do what she wanted Zellar for. She didn't even trust the cloning enough to share her memories with hers."

"Her clone _has_ been confirmed. What's going to happen to her?"

Nathan shrugged. "Not for us to decide. But without Andrea Dre's memory or personality, I'm not worried. Just about the time she could learn enough to function in society, she'll die. She has my pity."

"And what are you doing about Kendall's clone?"

"He's calling himself Ken Charleson. He wants to work for Hitchcock. I assume that's where Krieg took him, to talk to her."

She moved in closer and traced his jawline with a sensual finger. "And what are you going to do about losing your chief engineer?" Her eyes told him she already knew what he was planning, but she was so attractive when she played coy.

"I think you already know."

"Do I?" A flirtatious bat of her lashes.

He chuckled. "Don't you?"

"Well, I hope you're here to beg Katie to come back."

He couldn't help the slight cringe. "Beg? Kristin, she wants a family."

A shrug of her shoulders. "She also wants to be back on _seaQuest_. Couldn't you tell? You've just got to let her know how much you want her."

"You don't think she knows she's appreciated?"

"I think she's a woman fighting her biological clock and finding herself at odds with her own desires. She wants a family, but she also wants to design submarines and she wants to be part of the action."

"Sounds like the same things I wanted when I was her age."

"Yes, but as a man, you didn't have to compromise. Carol could have your baby and raise him while you were at sea. _You_ got to have it all."

"I can't change biology."

"I'm not suggesting you should. Just let her know you would support her no matter what. You won't be disappointed or annoyed if she needs to take maternity leave."

"Well, of course not."

"I know it sounds petty to you, but that's not something women take for granted. We want to be seen as just as reliable as men."

"I can't believe she doesn't know I find her just as good a candidate as any man."

"_Just as good?_ Nathan, why did she drop everything to come on _seaQuest_, hmm? She came because you needed her and she knew it. Don't tell her you have ten other people in mind, men _or_ women. Tell her you want _her_."

"But how can I compete with my own company? She started Project Calypso. She's funding it with her own money and most of the innovations are hers, not mine. Besides, a navy base in Hawaii is a lot safer place to raise a family."

"Shouldn't she be allowed to decide that for herself?"

He stared at his wife and it hit him. He _was_ treating Hitchcock differently because of her gender. He would never hesitate to tell a male he was first choice, whether he was planning a family or not. Sure, she might say no, but that didn't mean he should water down his request. He pulled Kristin in for a short kiss. "You're right. I'll beg."

"Good. Looks like I caught you just in time." She canted her head down the hall behind him.

Nathan turned and found Hitchcock headed his way. He stepped away from Kristin, lest she think she was interrupting. "Commander, just the person I wanted to see."

Kristin took off, back to the line of patients, winking her goodbye, or maybe it was a 'good luck'.

"Can I assume you bringing Charleson here means you trust him?"

Nathan nodded. "He thwarted those who created him to sabotage _seaQuest_ and Dr. Smith removed all the mental programming they foisted on him. No, he's not Kendall, but yes, I would trust him to work for us."

"That's what I thought. He's hired." Her next words spilled out in a rush. "Captain, I'd like to be considered for chief engineer on _seaQuest_."

"Considered? Katie, I couldn't compete with what Sherman Oil offered you, but I never wanted to lose you in the first place."

"I can't say I'm sorry I took the _Clinton_, considering all that's happened, but I no longer have to let money rule my life. I can do what I want."

"What about Calypso?"

"Do you have any objections to bringing the Jarvis aboard _seaQuest_? Lucas and I designed and built the _Stinger_ in our spare time."

"This is a lot bigger project."

"True, but it's already started and we'd have you and Henderson to help us. Besides, there's no deadline. So what if it means an extra six months?"

"You've got a point there. What's the status of your family plans? I want you to know I would fully support maternity leave when you need it."

"I'm not pregnant, and I'm not fully sure I want a baby right now. I'm probably going to remarry Ben though."

There was no question Krieg had changed for the better. He couldn't think of a single reason to object. "Well, he's already back in the navy. Do you think the two of us could convince Noyce we need the Supply and Morale Officer position reinstated?"

"We can't leave Bridger Hitchcock SeaDesigns without him all of the time, especially not with me gone. But I think he could get the same deal I had with the Reserves—at your beck and call any time you need him."

He'd mainly offered as a favor to her. While he felt a lot better about Krieg now, he really didn't have room for another lieutenant. In fact, it just occurred to him he didn't know where he was going to put _her_. "Kendall didn't have officer's quarters, Commander. You have any suggestions where I should put you?"

She shrugged. "Put me in with Brody if you have to."

Nathan laughed. It was one thing to let Shan share quarters with Ortiz. Shan was an ensign and both men were nearly the same age, and they got along well. A lieutenant commander shouldn't have to share at all, but certainly not with a married man whose wife back home might have a fit. "We'll put you in guest quarters until we figure something out."

"Fine by me."

"Drs. Levin and Westphalen will be ready to leave in four hours. Would Lieutenant Krieg like to take _seaQuest_ or _Splendor_ back to Pearl, or will you need to fly him out?"

"I'll have to ask. He may want to stay to help with the crowd control."

"I heard he sings."

She nodded. "He's terrible, but I think that's why it works. People join in so they don't have to hear him butcher their national anthem."

"And no one riots while singing the national anthem. Brilliant. But don't tell him I said so."

"Never, sir."

"I'll see you back with the doctors, otherwise, back at Pearl."

A solemn nod. "We'll be there for the funeral."

They exchanged a salute and then he took her hand. "Thank you for coming back. I had no one else in mind."

"Thank you for taking me. I know there's a space problem."

"Always room for my best chief engineer."


	81. Chapter 104 (conclusion)

**Chapter 104**

Nathan dismissed _Splendor_ from the blockade with the admiral's blessing, so Shan and Henderson could get a head start on the journey to Hawaii. Charleson caught a ride with them. Brody accompanied Drs. Levin and Westphalen back home to _seaQuest_ and all three of them promptly excused themselves, presumably to bed. Hitchcock remained with Krieg in Auckland, but with the jet copter, they would easily be able to make up lost time. _SeaQuest_ stayed until the UEO officially ended the blockade, when all the major cities no longer had lines waiting to receive vaccine and the CDC declared the virus 'contained'.

In the end, New Zealand lost more people than they did in the 2011 earthquakes, but fewer than the tsunami of 2016. Kristin turned out to be right about public opinion. Polls proved the UEO was more popular than ever before. The CDC destroyed all remaining virus samples, but since it had been in the wild and there was no way to know whether Zellar had hidden some, they promised to produce and store a large supply of antidote in case of another breakout. Although still not quite able to let go of her previous grudge, Kristin approved of the present course.

With Ford, Brody, and O'Neill back on the bridge, there was some semblance of normalcy, but the death of Kendall and the continued absence of Shan, Henderson, and Hitchcock cast a shadow of gloom over the crew. At least Piccolo no longer had to wear a sling and was able to take his station again.

Nathan ordered a speed of three-quarters, which was considerably faster than anything but a _Navis_-class, without risking damage or burnouts. Still, the distance seemed to drag on forever.

Lucas made good use of the time, conferring with his Node 3 friend, Nick, about the financial backers of the coup attempt. All the money tied to Dre had been funneled through dummy accounts. The rich guys lost whatever they invested, but they couldn't get arrested or lose all their other wealth. Much more money had gone into Gen-U-Flect, and they used a large chunk of it to hire very shrewd lawyers. Everyone who died in the bunker was declared a rogue to save the parent company. It looked like Gen-U-Flect would get off scot-free. They would keep every cent of their money and continue to operate, although Special Agent Townsend swore they'd be watched by the FBI and NCIS from now on.

Dr. Smith also used their travel time to finally finish the autopsies on Kaman and Shapra. She reported that they died of speargun wounds and nothing else. The _Liberté_ virus was in their cells, but they had been exposed for less than an hour before their deaths. They probably never felt any of the effects.

_SeaQuest_ made it to Honolulu where Nathan requested the use of the underwater berth. Surfacing anywhere near Pearl Harbor would mean a media circus, and he didn't have the heart for it this time.

Townsend made sure the bodies of Kaman and Shapra were handled appropriately and he also accompanied Mika to the airport. Dr. Wise's location was being kept top secret, as he was now in protective custody, but Townsend would take his daughter to see him. Evidently, she told Kristin she was interested in coming back to _seaQuest_ after she made sure her father was well and didn't need her. Both Kristin and Jonathan seemed happy with that prospect.

Kendall's funeral was scheduled for two days after their arrival to give the chaplain some time to confer with the Punchbowl managers and to give _Splendor_ a little more time to get there. _SeaQuest_ had overtaken her even though she left first. Hitchcock and Krieg flew in just ahead of Shan and Henderson.

The day of the funeral was sunny and bright, but with plenty of island tradewinds to counter the tropical heat compounded by dress whites. Had it been less than three weeks ago that they'd all been on this same island, wearing these same formal clothes but for that silly bachelor auction? It seemed like a lifetime ago. An American flag draped over the coffin, but the UEO flag was also waving from a nearby flagpole and on the fenders of the hearse and its escorts. The ceremony was closed-casket, presumably because Zellar's toxin had not left the body fit for viewing, or possibly because the toxin necessitated some sort of safety seal.

Nathan led his officers in volunteering to be pallbearers. Ford, Hitchcock, Krieg, Brody, O'Neill, and Shan along with Ortiz, Piccolo, and Kendall's assistant from engineering all served. Not only did most of _seaQuest_'s military come, but at least half of the science personnel also attended. Charleson opted not to attend, citing awkwardness and a possible upstaging as the reasons. Admiral Noyce and Secretary McGath flew in from the mainland to award the Medal of Honor on behalf of the President, who didn't make the trip.

The chaplain spoke of honor, bravery, and sacrifice, but he kept his sermon short and he gave everyone an opportunity to speak who wanted to.

Nathan stepped forward first. "Many of us would not be here today had it not been for Chief Kendall. His humility allowed a dolphin to be the figurehead and take the glory while he worked silently in the background, never expecting any rewards or accolades. The modular trimaran he designed will be available commercially in the near future, but its invention was born of necessity and saved many of our lives when we were prisoners without hope of escape. He didn't even know how to sail when he built the boat that had to cross ancient seas where there was no one to radio for help and no weather or GPS satellites to guide him. He let scientists and enlisted men take the helm because that was what worked. Kendall was a man who made things work—people and machines. He later learned to sail and he captained that boat with great pride. He will be greatly missed."

Hitchcock related an engineering story which probably only a handful of people could fully appreciate, but it was short and touching enough outside of full understanding that it made people smile and nod.

When no one else had anything to say, the chaplain closed the service with a prayer. There was a 21-gun salute and the flag was folded and handed to Nathan. After the casket was lowered, the chaplain invited everyone to climb a short hill and look out on the Pacific. With Kristin on his arm, he followed the crowd, glad to get out of the sheltered area and into the cooler breezes blowing up from the ocean.

On the sparkling sea below, sailing by with her brightly colored sails, was _skyQuest_. Nathan's breath caught in his throat almost exactly as it had the first time he saw her from his dreary prison cell on If. People gasped with awe and Kristin squeezed his hand gently.

_Smooth sailing, Captain Kendall. Fair winds and a following sea._

###

Later that year, Dr. Guy Peché and Dr. Kristin Westphalen were both nominated for the Nobel Prize in Medicine, while Benjamin Krieg and Charles Kendall were nominated for the Peace Prize. Of the four, only Dr. Peché won. He used the money for immunology research.

The end

* * *

_**A/N: Thanks so much to those who followed and encouraged me. I know it got a bit long, and for that, I apologize. If I ever write another **_**seaQuest**_** story, I promise I'll start a new thread. **_


End file.
